The Long, and Last, Goodbyes

Last Easter I look at these pictures and the first thing I notice is his smile. He was so happy that day. Eight months later, he would be gone. But this day… was the happiest I’d seen him in years. His dementia had progressed so much that it was really challenging for mom to travel with him or take him out of the house much anymore. He was weak and unstable. And unable – or unwilling – to follow directions to the point it taxed mom beyond her capacity. We had decided to spend what could quite possibly be one last Easter in Somerset, an honor to our tradition. And, to visit Memaw….

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I Love to Tell the Story

My Daddy went to be with Jesus in December. Because I spent nine years grieving in anticipation, as he slipped further into his dementia, losing him a little every day, I have been surprised by the enormity of the shock I feel now. I keep having moments of realization over and over, in the middle of otherwise ordinary days: My Daddy is dead. Forever. It’s the finality of it that arrests me. I keep having to remind myself: his loss is still so fresh and recent, every time I am overcome by BIG, LOUD grief days and am surprised to find it hard to function well. I have been living and writing and…

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The Coldest Day of the Year

December 12th, 2025 Today, love looked like: wearing a pair of one friend’s fleece-lined panty-hose while holding a hand-delivered latte from another. This is how two of my closest friends showed up for me in my grief, the day of my Dad’s funeral. It also looked like: A friend and a nanny who both brought sticker books for my son to keep him occupied in a long service.A sister and brother-in-law who drove two hours after a snowstorm just to be there.A childhood best friend who walked up and didn’t say a word, but hugged me tight – and held me upright – as I collapsed into her with sobs. She didn’t need…

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