The Power of Carrying Them With Us: Memorializing Our Pets Helps Us Heal
Grief doesn’t go away— it changes shape. And sometimes, what helps most is finding a way to carry the love forward in a way that feels real, tangible, and grounding.
I’ve shared this story in a few of our Jasper support groups, but I wanted to bring it here, too— because it’s such a small gesture that’s had such a big impact on how I process my grief, and maybe it will spark something for you.
After losing my dog Jasper— my best friend, my shadow, my everything — I found myself searching for ways to stay close to him. Not just in my thoughts or memories, but in my daily life. I didn’t want to leave him behind. I couldn’t.
So I started carrying a small pouch with me — everywhere. It lives in my fanny pack or whatever bag I’m using at the moment. Inside is Jasper’s favorite bandana, a tiny glass jar someone gifted me, filled with a little of his hair and a crystal.
Sometimes I forget it’s with me. And then, suddenly, I’ll see it or feel it, and this wave of warmth rushes over me. It’s like he’s saying, “I’m still here.” That tiny pouch has become a sacred little tether — a reminder that Jasper is always close. That love doesn’t end. That he’s still part of my world.
Why Memorializing Matters
This isn’t just about keepsakes. It’s about meaning. About claiming space for our grief and honoring the love that shaped us. When we memorialize our pets — through photos, rituals, jewelry, tattoos, shrines, or even pouches — we’re doing more than remembering. We’re giving our grief a container. We’re validating it.
Grief often feels isolating, especially after pet loss. The world moves on quickly. People don’t always get it. But creating a personal memorial — no matter how big or small — is a quiet act of resistance. Of reclamation. It’s a way to carry them with us without apology.
Inspiration, Not Instruction
On Easter, I was out playing golf with my parents. I snapped a photo of the pouch and found myself thinking of our community. I almost didn’t share it. It felt so personal. But maybe that’s the point.
Grief isn’t one-size-fits-all. your way of honoring your pet might look nothing like mine. That’s okay. What matters is that it feels right to you. A collar on your nightstand. A photo in your car. A necklace with their name. A walk you take every year on the day they left. Whatever it is, it’s valid. It’s powerful. It’s yours.
So if you’ve been looking for a way to stay connected, this is your invitation: Create something. Carry something. Speak their name. Remember.
Because they’re still with us — just in a different form.