Today marks the four-year anniversary of June’s death. Four years. June has been gone longer than she was here with us. The world I live in today feels drastically different than the world we shared. Sometimes I must remind myself that she was real and that our time with her wasn’t a dream. In a way, someone passing remains unfathomable.

The anniversary of her death always sends me to the journal I kept at the time. I read it again, and I reflect on the then and the now—and what I’ve made of the time in-between. June died on February 4, 2016. In the years since, Matt and I have been raising our two boys. And I’ve been building the June Jessee Memorial Foundation, which we started in June’s honor.

We announced our intention to start a foundation in June’s obituary. Even before she died, I knew I wanted to do something to help other families like ours. The need in our community is great, and Matt and I wanted to make a change. Four years ago, I didn’t know anything about running a foundation, or what it would do, exactly. I knew there had to be an easier way to find services for children and resources for parents. We wanted to step up and help fill that void.

I also wanted to start a foundation because I knew I would need a place to put all my love for June, once she was gone. I had so much love for her. As she was dying, I remember thinking, What would I do now? Where would that love go?

What I’ve learned is that love doesn’t go away, but it can be channeled. Directing love forward, in an outward direction to others, it turns out, helps keep the connection alive with the person who is gone. For me, it has also felt essential to keeping my own life vital and closer to whole.

Sometimes, people tell me I’m “selfless,” when they learn I run a foundation. They say it’s wonderful that I give so much of myself to others after losing so much. I appreciate the praise, of course, but starting and running the June Jessee Memorial Foundation is one of the most personally fulfilling things I’ve done. It gives me a place to express my affection for the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.

On this anniversary, I was thinking about the Law of Conservation of Energy, a physical law that states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; it can only be transferred or changed from one form to another. I think of love as a feeling and an energy. Establishing this foundation has enabled me to channel all that love and energy into something that lives on and helps other families in need.

I never thought I’d work in the nonprofit sector, let alone start an organization. I am not entrepreneurial by nature. I like following instructions and feel at ease with rules and processes that are already set in place. I’ve always relied on deadlines set by others for motivation. The idea of starting a business felt overwhelming and risky.

What I discovered, though, is that when you care deeply about the cause, that passion is your motivation. You don’t need the outside deadlines or rules. Also, running a foundation is fun! It’s wonderful to do something that connects me to June that feels joyful and energizing. I really enjoy what I do.

When it was time to start our nonprofit, it was a learning experience and a bit daunting. It’s funny, Matt and I always joked that June was like a small business with all her therapists, doctors, teachers, nurses, and equipment specialists. She had a team of employees. If there’s one thing I learned from that experience: find experts to help you with the things you don’t understand. We broke it down into steps and bite size pieces such as developing a mission, building a website, and creating a logo. We consulted people who knew about nonprofits, and we affiliated with the St. Louis Community Foundation and St. Louis Children’s Hospital before realizing we wanted to branch out and start something our own. You can read about our process here.

I’ve learned that a good idea with passion goes a long way. I’ve also realized that you can decide the next chapter of your story. We chose to build something out of June’s life that helps us go on. We can all do that, I think. It does not need to be a foundation. It could be participating in a walk in your loved one’s memory, planting a tree or volunteering at a hospital. It could be vowing to adopt the bits you love most about the person you lost within yourself.

For me, the June Jessee Memorial Foundation is my way of mothering June. I continue to care for June through my work with the other families. The love I have for her is in everything I do with June Jessee Memorial Foundation. It keeps me close to her and our reality that we shared. I like to think that these last four years after June died, a collusion of sorts transferred our love for her to a love for a community of families I meet every day. I am excited about the possibilities of support that we can provide for them and I have all the bravery, love and courage of our inspirational ladybug behind us.