I remember that day, as many of us do, like yesterday. Only certain days take such a hold on my memories, hugely significant days such as my wedding, our daughter’s birth and now Sept. 11.

In March of 1986, I was struggling through my sophomore year of college, was twenty years old, had just become engaged and was living the life of busy person wrapped up in their own world. I remember March 17 very well, but not because it was St. Patty’s Day.

My grandmother died today. Her pain has ended and ours has just begun. Her death was unexpected but not without preparation. As in life, she had died with specific instructions and plans and her family was left unburdened. Unburdened by her aches and pains so carefully guarded in life. Unburdened of the financial responsibility of her care in life and in death.

Interview with my father (7/4/1998) Download MP3 - 46MB - 33 mins.

Although I knew my dad wouldn’t live forever… I never thought he would die.

It was the beginning of December, and I was excited about Christmas coming. It was also nearing the end of the millennium, and everyone—especially my father—was excited for the year 2000.

I had seen my parents the week before on Thanksgiving. My father was quiet that day. We were sitting in the living room, and I remember my dad sitting in his chair listening to us talk. Usually he was the one talking and us listening, so I found it a bit strange that he was so quiet, but it wasn’t cause for concern.