Yesterday, I stopped by to pay our car insurance at the local office. The agent who I saw there, I hadn't seen since last November. Early November. As Olivia and I were entering through the doorway, the agent's face lit up and she asked where was my "baby on board" sign. She didn't know that I had lost our baby just weeks after having seen her last. I told her we had lost the baby and I could see the regret on her face immediately. She told me how sorry she was. I told her it was all right, that it had been tough, but that we were okay. She explained again that she was so sorry. What I then told her and what I hope she takes to heart is that it really is okay, that it is just so good that she remembered. She remembered our baby.
The word remember is a particularly interesting word, suggesting more than merely a thought, but a bringing back together. To re-member. The Greek work for this is anamnesis. When the church celebrates the Eucharist, this word, anamnesis, is used to describe what happens. Christ is present. Christ is remembered.
By faith we know that those who die in the Lord are not in fact dead, but are resting in Jesus. What does this mean exactly when we remember our loved ones? I am not sure, but am convinced it is more than a thought.