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Something beautiful begins to happen over time, though we often don’t recognize it right away.

One day, you catch yourself saying something they used to say. Maybe it’s a phrase you’ve heard a hundred times over the years. Maybe it’s the way you comfort someone, solve a problem, or laugh at something only the two of you would have understood. You pause for just a moment and think, That sounded just like them.

Those moments have a way of taking us by surprise. They remind us that although the person we loved is no longer physically beside us, something of them still shows up in the life around us.

When we wrote about Telling Their Stories, we talked about how sharing memories keeps the people we love present in our families and in our hearts. Stories are one way we honor them. They help our children and grandchildren know the people who came before them, and they remind us of the moments that helped shape our lives.

But over the years, we’ve discovered something else.

The stories don’t simply remind us of who they were.

They remind us of who they helped us become. And sometimes, they show us how who they were continues to reach people and places they never had the opportunity to know.

As widows, we sometimes wonder what Bob or Kris would think about something happening in our lives today. We imagine the advice they would give, the joke they would make, or the way they would celebrate a family milestone. We also see pieces of them in our children and grandchildren, sometimes in ways that make us laugh and other times in ways that stop us in our tracks. A mannerism. A sense of humor. A way of looking at the world. A value that has quietly been passed from one generation to another. Those thoughts don’t leave us feeling stuck in the past. Instead, they remind us that the years we shared with them still influence the lives being lived today.

Perhaps that’s what love has always done.

It changes us.

The people we love shape us in ways we don’t always recognize while they’re here. They influence how we treat others, the traditions we create, the values we pass on, and even the little habits that quietly become part of who we are. After they’re gone, those influences don’t disappear. They continue through us, but they can also move beyond us. Something they taught us may become something we teach our children. Something they valued may become important to a grandchild who never had the chance to know them. A tradition they started may be carried forward by a family that looks very different today than it did when that tradition began.

Sometimes we see it in the way we welcome people into our homes. Sometimes it’s the recipe we insist on making every holiday because “that’s the way they always did it.” Sometimes it’s hearing ourselves encourage a child or grandchild using the very words they once spoke to us. Those moments are rarely planned. They simply appear, reminding us that love has a remarkable way of leaving its mark.

Some days, we still miss them deeply. Empty chairs still sit at family gatherings, birthdays feel incomplete, and milestones pass by without them. Their continuing influence doesn’t erase their absence. Time doesn’t erase those moments either.

What time often does, however, is help us see what we couldn’t see at first.

Their physical presence ended. Their influence did not.

We no longer make new memories with them, but what they gave us continues to shape the new memories we make. We keep drawing strength from the lessons they taught us, the love they gave us, and the example they set. Their influence quietly becomes part of the decisions we make, the people we become, the things we pass on, and the lives we keep building.

Looking back, we don’t think this is about letting go.

It is about realizing that a person’s impact can reach much farther than the years they were given.

Not because the person is physically present, but because their life became intertwined with ours. Every act of kindness they inspired, every tradition we continue, every story we tell, and every value we pass on becomes another chapter in a legacy that didn’t end the day they died.

Perhaps that’s one of love’s lasting gifts.

We hold onto memories because we don’t want to lose them. Over time, we begin to recognize that memories are only part of what remains.

The people we love become part of how we see the world and how we love others. Their influence can show up in people they never met, celebrations they never attended, and generations they never got to see.

Their life didn’t stop matter­ing when it ended.

In so many ways, their story continues.

Some of their phrases that Teresa and Jeni hold onto as we share their stories.

Jeni

Bob would stand at the bottom of the stairs and yell, “I NEEEEEEEEED a VACAAAAATION!

Whenever something would overwhelm us, he would state, “Everyday’s an adventure!”

At night, when he put the kids to bed, they would say, “For Eternal Life,” meaning that they would love each other forever. 

Teresa

Some Kris’ism’s that are still voiced in the family,

No matter what was happening, he’d reply, “It’s all good!” In fact, I have that one tattooed in his memorial tattoo. 

If you were not doing what you’re supposed to or off course, he’d give you a “You better get right!”

These statements continue to hold meaning not only for us but for the future generations of our family as they are passed on through storytelling.

A reflection for you:

Think about someone you love and miss. What is one habit, value, tradition, or saying that lives on because of them? And where do you see their influence continuing beyond you? You may discover that their greatest legacy isn’t found only in the memories you treasure, but also in the ways their life continues to touch the lives that came after them.

With peace and blessings,
Teresa & Jeni