I used to think I had to hold your name inside
I used to think I had to hold your name inside— that speaking it would break me. But I’ve learned something since you left. Your name is not a wound. It’s a prayer. It’s love spoken out loud. And when I whisper it into the quiet, the silence answers with memory. So I say it in the mornings, when the sun rises without you. I say it at night, when dreams carry me back to your paws. I say it when I laugh, because you were joy. And I say it when I cry, because you are love. Say their name. Keep them here. Because names are anchors. Because names are bridges. Because no soul is ever gone, as long as their name still lives on our lips. Tonight, I’ll light a candle and say your name into the glow. And I know—across the Rainbow Bridge— you’ll lift your head, wag your tail, and know that you are remembered.