As we near the one-year anniversary of my daughter Kolleen’s death, I reflect on the past 365 days…365 days of missing Kolleen and celebrating her life. In a way, we remember Kolleen as she was on the day of her passing–full of life and love. It was as though we had taken a snapshot of Kolleen on that fateful day and placed it on the mantel of our minds. It will forever remain a snapshot of her youthful exuberance and boundless joy.

Over the course of the past year, we have aged 365 days. We have changed…becoming older and perhaps a little wiser. Life has buffed out some of the roughness, added a wrinkle or a new ache, and squeezed out a few more drops of our youthful vigor, but we remember Kolleen just as she was on Memorial Day, 2006–living life to its fullest and sharing good times with friends and family.

What has changed in the way we remember Kolleen is that thanks to the thousands of people whose lives Kolleen touched, we have been blessed with the memories that others have of Kolleen. During these 365 days, over 2000 tributes have been posted on KolleenRoberts.com–over 400 pages in all. We have received countless more tributes expressed in person and by way of phone calls, handwritten letters, and e-mail messages.

We have heard others sing the praises of Kolleen, praises that her humble nature would never have allowed her to sing herself. We have read touching stories of how Kolleen influenced her friends, teammates, classmates, family members, and others in her incredible circle of influence. And we have had the opportunity to see Kolleen alive in the hearts and souls of those who knew her best. These loving words continue to carry on and enrich our memory of Kolleen.

On this Memorial Day, my family and I thank you for opening your hearts and sharing your memories of Kolleen with us, with one another, and with the people who find inspiration on KolleenRoberts.com. Kolleen brought you into our home and into our hearts, and you continue to enrich our lives.

We ask you to take some time out of your festivities this Memorial Day to remember Kolleen and what she meant to you. But remember in the way Kolleen would want you to remember–not in sorrow, but in joy. Enjoy your Memorial Day to the fullest, and fully love those around you. Life is too short to live it any other way.

Today, October 17, the day when the U.S. population reached 300 million, and what would have been my daughter Kolleen’s 19th birthday causes me to reflect on what it all means.

It’s not the 300 million figure that impresses me most. It’s the fact that each of those 300 million people is an individual who, through the course of their lives, will, in some way, touch the lives of the more than 6 billion individuals on the planet.

When Kolleen passed away earlier this year, I was deeply moved at her visitation and funeral by all the friends, family, and acquaintances who showed up to grieve her loss and celebrate her life. I realized that although Kolleen was no longer with us in body, her spirit continued to thrive in those who knew her and loved her. They shared their stories of Kolleen with me and my family—my wife Kathleen, and Kolleen’s siblings Kyle and Kaleigh.

Recently, I picked up a copy of The Dash, based on the poem “The Dash,” by Linda Ellis. (You can view The Dash Movie online by clicking here.) In the poem, Ellis describes a man speaking at the funeral of a dear friend. Referring to the dates on her tombstone, he notes that what’s most important about those dates is not the birth date or the date of her death, but the dash between those years. The man goes on to say that in the end, what we own, what we achieve materially is of little consequence. What’s important is “How we spend our dash.”

The Dash constantly reminds me of the importance of connecting with others every day of my life, especially in a world in which technology is making communications increasingly less personal. When we connect with others, as Kolleen did throughout her short life, the dash becomes much less of a line between two dates. It becomes an ever expanding series of circles that ripple out, touching the lives of many others.

On this day, I realize that Kolleen’s dash didn’t end on the day she died. Because she touched so many people in so many positive ways, she made her dash eternal.

I wonder about that 300 millionth U.S. citizen born today. What will that tiny baby’s dash ultimately represent? How will he or she affect the lives of others? How will that person’s life ultimately touch me?

I just returned from Florida where I was visiting family and delivering a three-hour talk for a mortgage company in Ft. Lauderdale. For those of you who are new to my world or new to this blog and may be wondering why it is that I haven’t been blogging since the Memorial Day weekend, I have sad news to share.

My oldest daughter–my angel–my 18-year-old Kolleen, A.K.A. “KoRo,” passed away quite unexpectedly on Memorial Day. Kolleen was everything to me and my wife Kathleen and our two other children, Kyle and Kaleigh. These last 10 days have been both a horror and an honor. If you’re a parent, you know the horror part. The honor part has been as a result of the outpouring of love and support from nearly every corner of the planet.

To see for yourself what an amazing friend, sister, granddaughter, niece, cousin, teammate, neighbor, and daughter Kolleen was, please click here for a tribute blog that was created by some of my assistants in the early hours of this tragedy.

I’ll be back soon with updated news and information about my upcoming talks and projects. Until then, I just wanted to say to everyone who has shared a thought, memory, or kind word with my family and me since Memorial Day, we thank you again from the bottom of our hearts. These are difficult and trying times, to say the least, and your support has been of great comfort to everyone in my family.