Remembering Without Replacing
How birthdays and anniversaries remind us that love leaves specifics, not replacements.
September 29, 2025 | By Lisa Hatzenbeller
Some dates are impossible to forget. A birthday. An anniversary. A moment that split your life into a before and after. They arrive on the calendar whether you are ready or not, and with them come all the feelings you thought you had tucked away.
For me, September 29 carries some weight. It is not just about the person tied to the date. It is about the reminder that time moves forward even when our hearts want to linger. People around you might not understand why you remember. They might even question it. But memory is not a weakness. It is proof you lived, you loved, and you paid attention.
There is a pressure to treat these days as hurdles to “get over.” Smile, stay busy, pretend it is just another square on the calendar. But ignoring them does not make them easier. What helps is allowing yourself to sit with what comes up. Grief, longing, gratitude, regret: they all belong. When you give yourself permission to feel them, the day stops being something you need to outrun. It becomes something you can carry.
This is where the wisdom of films slips in. In Before Sunset (2004), Celine says, “You can never replace anyone because everyone is made up of such beautiful specific details.” That line has always stuck with me. Birthdays and anniversaries bring those details rushing back: the sound of their laugh, the way they held a cup, the exact shade of their favorite hoodie. These are not things you replace. They are things you hold, even as you keep moving forward.
To remember someone’s birthday is not to stay trapped in the past. It is to honor that they mattered. That the connection mattered. That you are still shaped by it today. The mistake is not in remembering. The mistake is in thinking that remembering means you have failed to let go.
Letting go is not erasing. Letting go is learning to live with both absence and presence. It is holding those specific details without letting them dictate every step you take. The memory can travel with you, but it does not have to steer the wheel.
So when dates like these come around, instead of asking, “Why can’t I forget?” try asking, “What do I want to do with this memory?” Maybe it inspires you to call a friend, to write something down, to simply light a candle and acknowledge it. Small actions turn painful reminders into moments of reflection and even growth.
Because ultimately, these days are not about what you cannot change. They are about how you choose to meet yourself in the middle of them. With judgment, or with compassion. With denial, or with honesty.
I am choosing honesty. I remember. I always will. And that is not a flaw. That is love still doing its work.
This piece marks the beginning of Shoot Your Shot Love. The project is built on the idea that love, memory, and loss are not things to run from but things to move with. Each quote we choose ties into a scene in the Shoot Ur Shot Love arc: adding not just to the story of that film, but to the stories we carry in our own lives.
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