It started with the people who remembered.

Twelve years ago, our son Jack was born sleeping. Inside the hospital, our world had stopped. Beyond the walls of the maternity ward, life continued.

In those first weeks and months, the practical love and support of family and friends helped us navigate the darkest days of grief. But while grief changes with time, it never fully leaves. The meals stop coming. The calls become less frequent. The rest of the world moves forward, but the dates remain.

What has helped carry us through the years are the people who continue to remember Jack with us. A simple text. A card in the mail. Small acts that tell us he has not been forgotten, and neither have we.

Most of us want to show up for those we love in this way, not only after a funeral or hospital stay, but for the long road that follows. Yet many of us worry about saying the wrong thing, bringing up a painful memory, or intruding. So we say nothing, not realizing that silence can feel far heavier than imperfect words.

We created Forget Me Not was for both sides of that silence: for those carrying dates the rest of the world has moved past, and for the people who care deeply but don’t always know how to show it.

We make remembering gentle and showing up easier, because some dates and seasons are too heavy to carry alone.