One of the things that has surprised me the most is how our relationships with our parents don’t end when they die. I don’t mean the love, I knew that wasn’t going to end, I mean the actual relationship. I guess you can’t know that until you lose them, but it’s been such a revelation to me. I thought the story was over, but it continues to shift and change, and there’s always room
for more grace and forgiveness. Which feels like such a gift.
Obviously I loved every bit of this. Even though it hurt, too. Hugs to you and to all of us navigating these complicated waters ❤️🩹 I feel
I used to play guitar and sing in coffee shops when I was in college. I will text a pic of me singing in the dorm lobby when I was a freshmen. Then your phones will self destruct.
Whew— this piece knocked the wind all the way out of me. Just stunning. Thank you for writing it with such clarity and grace and for sharing it. ( As I read, I was coincidentally sitting by a lit candle commemorating my father’s 3rd year death anniversary— and trying to conjure into my heart a peace and a remembering of the very brief moment in time when my father, was my dad. Reading this was healing ❤️🩹
Beautiful writing, Kate. And there’s something about the relationship with our parents — the way it evolves even after they pass. Our understanding of them and of ourselves changes, too.
Your story is sublime. Your writing reads like a poem. The imagery! The tenderness! The truth! This essay touched me deeply. I needed this today. Thank you!
This struck me so deeply, Kate. I read it, suddenly tearful in the coffee shop, so glad to know of this beautiful moment between your dad and you, with this beautiful remembrance of that, and continued consideration of what it all meant.
My folks are both gone now, and I love what David Whyte says about the relationship continuing, as it does. I find myself remembering them, looking more for moments of love than anything else, and seeing it now in places I never could have imagined.
Grateful for your beautiful writing, and for this piece, which will stay with me.
Rob thank you — that means so much to me. I feel like we need to start more conversations about what death really means. Because as I get older, the more I believe it’s a myth that our beloved’s are gone. More here feels more apt.
Thanks again for your kind words. I appreciate you.
Yes to this. If you didn't catch it, there was a really wonderful moment on Anderson Cooper's podcast recently where Megan Falley, Andrea Gibson's wife, said that it feels strange to say with certainty that someone died, as we don't even know what that means. She used the phrase "allegedly died," which I thought was beautiful... and of course the way she put this made Anderson cry, which makes me love him all that much more.
This is absolutely beautiful, and I appreciate you writing this. My father was upset when I left my marriage after 22 years. He knew I was miserable, but his attitude was "lots of people are miserable but they just lie in the bed they made". When I rekindled my relationship with a past love during the divorce he said "can't you just wait until the timing is better". No, I couldn't. I wasn't passing up this second chance at real love and happiness. On his deathbed, I apologized for everything that had happened in the divorce. We had lost our family home and much more. But he said to me, "It's okay, I can see you are happy now, and my husband is a good man". My humiliation and shame, in that moment, was absolved. He had forgiven me and realized that I had made the right choice. It was a gift I will cherish because had he not, I would have punished myself for a long time. Thank you for making me think about this.
This essay, so compelling, pulls me back to my father. I had not been able to see this aspect of our connection before— bound together through our insecurities. Thank you for this, Kate.
Thank you for laying your heart bare; it's deep and painful and healing and helpful work that you are doing. Perhaps it's just a trick of the Universe, but I'm meeting so many people in the 50 and over (I'm well over) crowd who are working through the same relationships, relationships that have taken on a unique flavor now that our parents are gone and we are coming to grips with who we really are and the vital role—for better and worse—that they have played in our lives. I have spoken with my Dad and Mom, and my eldest sister who was also a parent to me, in guided journeys. Whether in dreams or in journeys or, as often as not, just in the course of a normal day, the work we are doing is, I suspect, vital to the evolution of our species. We pass on ways of thinking and being to all those we come in contact with, or at least this is what I imagine, and I dare to believe I'm not wrong.
Your ability to see you dad with eyes of love and compassion, this not only changes you but also all of us who know you through your writing. Well done and love on. We are changing the world and this is more true and important than today's headlines. Peace.
One of the things that has surprised me the most is how our relationships with our parents don’t end when they die. I don’t mean the love, I knew that wasn’t going to end, I mean the actual relationship. I guess you can’t know that until you lose them, but it’s been such a revelation to me. I thought the story was over, but it continues to shift and change, and there’s always room
for more grace and forgiveness. Which feels like such a gift.
Obviously I loved every bit of this. Even though it hurt, too. Hugs to you and to all of us navigating these complicated waters ❤️🩹 I feel
so lucky to call you friend.
Yeah. That’s why, by and large, death is a myth. Grateful for you, friend. xo
"and there’s always room
for more grace and forgiveness."
Gonna start calling you and Kate Grace and Forgiveness instead of Kate and Ally.
Remind me to tell you why calling me Grace is so on the nose... and it’s not because I’m full of it. lol And hey, wasn’t Kate and Ally a tv show???
Maybe we can call you Kindness and start a band ❤️
Are you singing, playing an instrument, or both? How about Kate? Because I have multiple guitars and I will make this happen.
I used to play guitar and sing in coffee shops when I was in college. I will text a pic of me singing in the dorm lobby when I was a freshmen. Then your phones will self destruct.
This is a worthy cause. I wil sacrifice my phone for this.
I know better than to read these at work... yet here I sit, crying at my desk yet again. ❤️
Sorry. I’m such a dick. 🫶🏻
Whew— this piece knocked the wind all the way out of me. Just stunning. Thank you for writing it with such clarity and grace and for sharing it. ( As I read, I was coincidentally sitting by a lit candle commemorating my father’s 3rd year death anniversary— and trying to conjure into my heart a peace and a remembering of the very brief moment in time when my father, was my dad. Reading this was healing ❤️🩹
Wow! That’s some timing. I’m sorry for the loss of your father. I hope this piece brought a moment of peace.
Wow, just wow for now is all I can muster about this telling so close to home for me.
Thanks for reading it Wendy— I appreciate it.
Beautiful writing, Kate. And there’s something about the relationship with our parents — the way it evolves even after they pass. Our understanding of them and of ourselves changes, too.
So true. Death and time sure level the playing field. Thanks, Vince.
Thank you for this …..I can so relate…💕💕
Thanks for reading it. Glad it resonated.
It's 2 am and I'm floored. An absolute feast of an essay. Grateful to Paul Crenshaw and insomnia for leading me to this incredible piece.
Thanks so much for reading it Jacqueline! And I’m always grateful for Paul! He’s the best.
That remembered conversation is so precious.
Thanks for reading it Wendy.
Your story is sublime. Your writing reads like a poem. The imagery! The tenderness! The truth! This essay touched me deeply. I needed this today. Thank you!
Thank you! That’s so kind of you to say.
This struck me so deeply, Kate. I read it, suddenly tearful in the coffee shop, so glad to know of this beautiful moment between your dad and you, with this beautiful remembrance of that, and continued consideration of what it all meant.
My folks are both gone now, and I love what David Whyte says about the relationship continuing, as it does. I find myself remembering them, looking more for moments of love than anything else, and seeing it now in places I never could have imagined.
Grateful for your beautiful writing, and for this piece, which will stay with me.
Rob thank you — that means so much to me. I feel like we need to start more conversations about what death really means. Because as I get older, the more I believe it’s a myth that our beloved’s are gone. More here feels more apt.
Thanks again for your kind words. I appreciate you.
Yes to this. If you didn't catch it, there was a really wonderful moment on Anderson Cooper's podcast recently where Megan Falley, Andrea Gibson's wife, said that it feels strange to say with certainty that someone died, as we don't even know what that means. She used the phrase "allegedly died," which I thought was beautiful... and of course the way she put this made Anderson cry, which makes me love him all that much more.
I didn’t see it but she’s right ❤️ Death is a heart opener. For sure.
Isn’t kinda brutiful—those things that take a lifetime to crack open, to have our heart crack open to receive?
Beautiful, Kate.
They sit in the dusty cracks of us like seeds waiting on 100 year rains. The bloom is always such a beautiful, necessary surprise.
Thanks Holly 🤍
This is absolutely beautiful, and I appreciate you writing this. My father was upset when I left my marriage after 22 years. He knew I was miserable, but his attitude was "lots of people are miserable but they just lie in the bed they made". When I rekindled my relationship with a past love during the divorce he said "can't you just wait until the timing is better". No, I couldn't. I wasn't passing up this second chance at real love and happiness. On his deathbed, I apologized for everything that had happened in the divorce. We had lost our family home and much more. But he said to me, "It's okay, I can see you are happy now, and my husband is a good man". My humiliation and shame, in that moment, was absolved. He had forgiven me and realized that I had made the right choice. It was a gift I will cherish because had he not, I would have punished myself for a long time. Thank you for making me think about this.
Thank you for reading it and taking the time to comment and share it. 🤍
This essay, so compelling, pulls me back to my father. I had not been able to see this aspect of our connection before— bound together through our insecurities. Thank you for this, Kate.
I’m really glad it resonated, Charrise. Thank you for reading it.
Kate, this is so powerful and beautiful. I hardly know which section to share, it’s all so tender and gorgeous.
Thank you for reading it Mary. I appreciate it.
Sending you the giantest of hugs for this one, sis. Beautiful, like you <3
Also that pic of you is just the cutest thing ever <3
Thank you for laying your heart bare; it's deep and painful and healing and helpful work that you are doing. Perhaps it's just a trick of the Universe, but I'm meeting so many people in the 50 and over (I'm well over) crowd who are working through the same relationships, relationships that have taken on a unique flavor now that our parents are gone and we are coming to grips with who we really are and the vital role—for better and worse—that they have played in our lives. I have spoken with my Dad and Mom, and my eldest sister who was also a parent to me, in guided journeys. Whether in dreams or in journeys or, as often as not, just in the course of a normal day, the work we are doing is, I suspect, vital to the evolution of our species. We pass on ways of thinking and being to all those we come in contact with, or at least this is what I imagine, and I dare to believe I'm not wrong.
Your ability to see you dad with eyes of love and compassion, this not only changes you but also all of us who know you through your writing. Well done and love on. We are changing the world and this is more true and important than today's headlines. Peace.
I couldn’t agree more that it’s vital to the evolution of not just ourselves, but humanity overall. Talk about god’s work.
Thanks for these kind comments Robert. I appreciate it.