Monday morning my 12-year old daughter woke up upset.

She was trying to hide it but I could tell.

I felt like a detective.

She should have been in a decent mood.

Although I had work (from home, as always), they were out of school. They had both Good Friday and Easter Monday off. So the funk she was in—very much an on-the-edge-of-tears existence for a good 15-20 minutes—shook me.

It was more akin to when she’d realized last minute that an assignment was due THAT DAY, a moment I did not want to relive.

So, of course I prodded, assuming that if some big school project needed to be tackled I’d better know.

Or if some personal issue needed extra love and mama coaching.

I needed to know the problem so I could empower her to solve it.

Eventually she spilled:

SHE WAS UPSET THAT IT WASN’T EASTER DAY ANYMORE.

And suddenly I remembered she’d done this after Christmas Day, too.

Y’all, as tough as this girl is (and I say that mostly because her sister is known to be more emotional while she holds it all in), she has a soft spot for the passing of special moments.

We talked about how, in addition to the loss of people, we also mourn times that were special to us.

I don’t always feel this way about holidays just as they’ve ended, but I can relate when it comes to finishing a good book. Saying goodbye to anything that evokes strong feelings can be difficult.

For her, it is especially hard to let go of the excitement of yesterday when yesterday involved family time and candy (I think there’s a correlation there).

This start to my week—the anxiety, then the discovery of what was actually happening, and the mama instincts that told her it was ok to be sad all passed in less than a half hour—but what’s sticking with me is whether we newsletter creators can apply this to our process.

What can we learn from mourning the special moments?

Does hitting send each issue feel like relief, or do we simultaneously miss the build up?

And what does experiencing our newsletters feel like to subscribers?

Should we read each issue thinking, “I’d like the reader to be a little sad when they’re done reading this?” Not because the topic makes them sad, but because the moment you just created for them is over?

I know, one can go back and reread a thing, but it’s never the same as the first time.

If your goal is to stir some sort of emotion and connection, is it also to create something good enough to mourn?

So good, in fact, that with each issue your subscriber remembers the way you made them feel and does not hesitate to open and see if this one also delivers?

Ashley Guttuso