A Letter from My Heart: Why I’ve Been Quiet

It was 9pm on the evening of June 13th when my phone lit up with my brother’s name. The moment I saw it, I knew something was wrong.

He and his family were on the last day of a vacation with our parents. They had stepped away for just ten minutes. When they returned, they found my dad lying in bed, not breathing. My brother immediately started CPR. The paramedics arrived and did everything they could—trying for an hour to bring him back. But the universe had already decided.

On Father’s Day, we sat numbly at the funeral home, planning a service we never imagined having to plan. My dad was only 71. Vibrant. Full of life. It didn’t feel real.

We buried him on June 19th.

And then, just 48 hours later, my world shattered again.

I was staying with my mom when my phone lit up once more. This time it was my husband. Through tears and a broken voice, he told me something I still can’t fully comprehend—our dear nephew had been killed in a hit-and-run accident. He was only 26.

Two tragedies. Days apart. There are no words that can capture the weight of this grief. Life will never be the same.

I’ve dreaded writing this. But I consider you—my readers, my community—my friends. And I didn’t want to simply disappear without telling you why I’ve been gone.

There is no normal to return to. Only forward. One day, one breath at a time. I’m trying.

I will be back, because this space brings me joy. But it might look a little different now. I feel forever changed.

With love and gratitude,
Melissa

The most amazing, loving father.

My dear, sweet, talented nephew.