Well - your mum absolutely WAS hot!! And so stylish. I’m glad you are with her and taking the next week off.

The last week of someone’s life is like a time capsule in itself. So intimate, so full of knowing and understanding and loving. Four years ago, I was with my younger brother as he transitioned at 26 and he was so generous in his passing. I live interstate, and he texted me 2 months before his died about sighting a white magpie in their backyard and how special it was. That white magpie is all I search for every time I visit my parent’s home, but the last time I saw it was on the day he died. I went for a walk up a hill nearby, saw the most amazing sunset of my life and came back to the house to see it dancing on the grass outside. I know that his spirit was in there and I’ll never forget that moment 💙

Nic...Do I discern a Cher fan from the way back? Your mum is stunning, she is hot, she is STILL that woman. Our aging preserves our rings of incredible human preciousness...yes, like a tree does.

My story is about my erstwhile husband and my then 4 y.o. stepdaughter. When I first started dating him, I was truly, madly, deeply in love with him and thought he was "hot" (clearly where the saying "love is blind" comes from). One hot PHX summer afternoon, he came in from mowing the lawn, sweaty, smelly, dirty; he pulled off his soaked t-shirt, and little girl said, "HE'S NOT SO HOT ANYMORE!"

Love to you and your mama, Nic.

When I was a child, my dad would take my brother and I to get ice cream every Wednesday after school at the local dairy queen.

We had a strained relationship to say the least. However, when he was in his last days, and unable to speak to us, I shared with him that I was now taking my young daughter to ice cream each Friday after school.

In that moment, while he was on a breathing machine and unable to communicate with us, he started crying...

I'll never know if it was just his body or if by some small chance he heard me and was feeling just as sad and lonely as I was in that exact moment.

I didn't share many happy memories with my dad as a woman, but the memories I have with him as a girl and in the local dairy queen will always be cherished with fondness.

Please also know you are held in this time, Nic. You're not alone.

Oh Nic, I’m sending you so much love right now. Almost three years ago I sat by my dad’s bed while he took his end of life meds and less than twenty minutes later, I watched him take his last breath. As heartbreaking and difficult as it was, I was so happy that I was able to be with him when he passed. I wish your mom an easy transition and I hope your dad picks her up and twirls her around when he meets her on the other side. Also, let your mom know that a random internet person on the opposite coast thinks she was damn hot.

I love the idea of an emotional time capsule. Here’s one of mine. When I was four, I was enrolled in a new preschool and I was really scared of having to go in the school bus. My dad promised to drive behind the bus all the way to my school and he said he would be there when I got off the bus. I have a vivid memory of kneeling on the backseat of the bus and looking through the dirty back window of the big school bus, and seeing my dad’s car follow us the whole way to my new school. My dad and I didn’t have the easiest relationship for most of my life but I always smile remembering him following my bus on my first day of school.

I love that story about your mom, that is excellent. 😂

One of the memories that makes me smile the most happened during a weekend in London with a new friend. We went to a couple of small gigs and at some point in between, I told her I wish I’d had had a closer look at the singer’s watch. She looked a little weirded out but trying to be nice about it. It turns out she had heard I wanted to look at his flesh. 🤦🏻 I was so touched that she was trying not to be judgmental. We ended up cry-laughing for half an hour. Turns we’re prone to laughing fits when we’re together. That weekend really cemented our friendship and we still get the giggles about it. Most of my timecapsule memories are linked to a strong feeling of embodiment.

Oh Nic, I'm so sorry you're going thru this and am delighted that you're finding love and solace in these sweet (and horrifying) memories.

My mom passed away somewhat unexpectedly exactly two years ago. My dad had already passed. After she passed, I had the honor (yes, it was a lot of work) of being the executer. Since I was the only child who lived near her, I was the one that was responsible for emptying a family home of 60 years to get it ready to sell. In doing so, every little thing had a memory. From her favorite sweater, to her books, to the blueprints of the house, to their china and silver, to their photo albums, everything held a special meaning. So many tears were shed. Honestly the most time consuming was going through all the photos. But that was the funnest part - to relive all the memories. I spent every possible minute at the house as I could. As it represented everything to our family - it's where all the family gatherings were held, so many neighborhood friends, childhood memories. I needed to encapsulate it in my mind and heart forever. And I think I did. An added bonus - my brother and I spread their ashes under the giant oak tree on the property, so they are forever there.

I'm sending you much love during this time of transition. Be well, and let yourself feel all the feels.

Thank you for sharing this story (and especially your mom's hot photo) ❤️

The thing that's coming to mind for me right now is that my grandpa, who we called Pa, was a Yugoslavian immigrant who learned English after coming to the US. For some reason, he always called referred to Home Depot as "Home Peoples" — like yeah, home is for peoples! I just have always loved that and I think of him when I pass a store.

What a timely newsletter as ponder to myself this week what it means that I have such specific, wistful memories of those I love [and have loved] with such details that haven't lost any fidelity, even after many years. I love your description of your mother and what a gift it is to be able to spend these precious moments with her. I appreciate your description of the "emotional time capsule" as this is something I wanted to name in some way but yours is perfect.

I have something stored away in my emotional time capsule: it is the face of a man who loves me (but I didn't know this at the time). He has that gorgeous golden light glow that happens in the late afternoon. He is looking off in the distance at a desert that is silent but for gusts of wind that occasionally pass through and create whistling noises in my motocross helmet. His lips are curling into a faint smile as he is exactly where he wants to be in that moment; at peace, engaging in his passions. I am taking it all in as an observer along on this dirtbike adventure. I commit to memory every strand of hair, the color of his jersey, the colors of the landscape and the lines around his eyes. He doesn't know that I love him too.

Sending you so much love during this time and in the time that will come after. Thank you for sharing, and also for having good boundaries about not sharing for a bit.

My emotional time capsule has my (now dead) grandfather's voice reading me The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. He was not a very good person, but we both love books and he instilled a love of that world that has stayed with me my entire life. When I re-read them, which is often, I hear his voice every single time.

Nic, sending you so much strength and peace as you walk through these coming days and weeks. It’s such a tragic and beautiful part of life that we can be utterly brokenhearted and still be there to support the ones we love so dearly. The comfort you are providing to your mom in her final days is immeasurable.

My great aunt was very special to our family and she passed when I was 11. Shortly after, my mom went to a psychic who told her my aunt was watching over us… this terrified me as a child. But now, as I sing the songs she taught me to my 5-year old, it gives me immense comfort to imagine her watching down on me, I picture it often and smile.

That photo is such a time capsule, I love that it’s been such a constant throughout your mom’s life! I hope that her sense of humour is able to stay with her as long as possible.

My grandma was considered the “pet person” in our extended family, which wasn’t hard because literally no other family homes had pets of their own. For some reason, throughout the entire time I knew her, she always had exactly 1 dog and 2 cats, never more or less, and boy did they each have their own stories. Their names always made their way into written letters, and signed every birthday and holiday card. She lived alone with her pets on the edge of a forest, and her life just seemed so magical and full. I held so much respect for her love of animals, and also her independence. Little me thought her Baba Yaga-esque life was the dream. Not too long ago, someone commented that my partner and I have “so many pets”, and I thought of our own motley crew of exactly 1 dog and 2 cats, and said “I think we actually have the perfect amount.”

I'm so sorry, Nic. Your mom was correct about her hotness and I can see your resemblance to her!

My grandfather died at age 94, and was in remarkably good physical and cognitive health until the last month of his life. I give that for context because this story happened when he was 88, about six years before his death. I was a senior in high school and my dad and I had just gone for my last college visit, to the school I ended up going to, before I made my final decision, and on the way home, we stopped to visit my grandparents. My dad noticed my grandpa had band-aids on his hands and asked him what happened.

Grandpa: Oh, I fell down chasing a turkey.

Dad: Excuse me?

Grandpa: I was taking out the trash and by the side of the house I saw a wild turkey. So I threw the trash can lid at him, and then I chased him about three-quarters of the way around the house, and then I fell down.

Dad: ...what exactly were you planning on doing if you CAUGHT the turkey?

(Like I said, he was cognitively fine. He just...had a weird old man moment where he decided he had to take on a wild turkey. In the SPRING, which is when they're mating and are particularly nasty.)

My grandmother, on the other hand, did have dementia towards the end of her life. At the time I lived in Davis Square in Somerville, MA, pretty close to where my grandmother grew up. But as her memory went, that was one thing she always remembered. Every time she saw me she'd ask, "How's Davis Square?"

My grandma, who is now passed, once had this interaction with me: Grandma: Are you hungry? Do you need anything to eat or drink? Me: No, I’m good. Grandma: I know you’re good, but are you hungry?

This will always be my favorite memory.

Nic, I have been a casual reader of your work for years - I can’t say I’m a super fan but I have appreciated your thoughtfulness and your relentless pursuit of living life on your own terms.

I am so sorry to hear that you will lose both parents within a year. The same thing happened to me in 2017-2018 and it completely unmoored me. I will tell you that I had more time to read your work at that point in my life, and it was a comfort to know there were others out there dealing with life upheaval and trying to learn a little more about themselves and how to care for themselves in the process. I am sure the current moment is impossibly awful, but you have developed many skills for getting through awful things over the years. You will get through this, even if it takes a long time to unfurl from the grief of this moment.

I leave you with a memory of when my mom was on home hospice. It was May, and season finale time for many TV shows. My mom and I were watching some crime/cop show, which ended on a cliffhanger. Under her breath, in her usual snark, she clicked her tongue and said “I don’t have time for this.” It was both gallows humor and extremely true - none of us will ever have enough time for the things we enjoy and the people we love.

Sending all of the good vibes to you, and peace and comfort to your mom. Thank you for being a source of quiet comfort to me many years ago when I was in your shoes.

I love this story and photo, and especially how much it would delight your mom that we’re all admiring her favorite hot girl photo right now. Sending so much love and peace for this heartbreaking and sacred transition time. Take gentle care. ❤️

I have one perfect Grand Canyon rafting trip when I R2ed with my (current) partner before we were together. The whole trip was a bit of a shitshow for everyone else, but for us, it was filled with longing, potential and so much fun in our little boat together. A little over a year ago he almost died from carbon monoxide poisoning and our lives have both changed a lot but I have that perfect trip to remember forever. <3

I can't imagine losing both of my parents in one year. Mary Oliver's poem In Blackwater Woods has brought me a lot of comfort when I've experienced loss.

Also please tell your mom that she does look v hot in that photo!

Sending so much love to you, Nic. Your mom was so hot, and that's such a beautiful story!

I remember a very simple story about my grandfather, who died years ago. He was picking me up from college and we stopped at Burger King for lunch. He ordered a "Big Boy" burger and the cashier was so confused. My grandpa mixed Burger King up with Big Boy. He laughed so hard when he realized what he had done. My grandpa wasn't a man who laughed out loud a lot, so I love that little memory.

First, sending tremendous love and light to you during this time.

Second, thank you for such a beautiful and joyful prompt. It brought me back to one of the moments I will always treasure.

An afternoon with my grandmother in her little assisted living apartment, with a small balcony overlooking the Prescott Dells — giant boulders stacked in remarkable ways, etched with beautiful striations. My mom was there, being the consummate hostess, with champagne for us, apple juice for my five-year-old son, and snacks all around. The light was bright on the balcony, so my mom found my grandmother’s stash of sunglasses. Grandma put on one pair, and my son slipped on another. The two of them sat side by side, delighted with the view and their snacks — two of my favorite people in the world.

My little five-year-old in oversized round sunglasses, like a tiny owl beside her... a mini-me of Grandma in that moment. They looked like the happiest twins, perched there together, sharing sunshine and snacks. We all laughed at the sweetness of it, at the ease of the moment.

And yes… we have the photo.

My grandma died recently and I had left the country one week before that, I live across the ocean.

Thank you for this prompt. It helped me focus on happy memories, an exit from the sadness.

I remember that I used to fake laugh with my grandma and she would do it so well. slowly saying each HA in a dramatic way. We would end up laughing for real after a minute. that's my memory, my grandma and I laughing, enjoying the complicity of being silly together.

I send you love during this time.

It's been almost twenty years, and I can still hear my grandma's voice calling "yoooo-hoooo" as she walked in a house to let everyone know she'd arrived. Miss her. Sending care to you, Nic, and to everyone in the comments.

Sending love and care to you and your mom, Nicole. My dad died in 2017 when I was 30 and the memory I hold closest is just the joy sparking in his voice whenever he answered the phone when I called. We didn't have a good relationship for about 25 of those 30 years, but it still felt precious to hear his appreciation of me.

Oh Nic, I'm so sorry you're going through this. Sending love and please take all the time off writing you need. The story about your mum is hilarious and I can completely feel your embarrassment as a teenager! I've come to this post a few days late and it's interesting how several people have posted funny memories - must be what sticks in the mind. My sister hasn't spoken to me in over a year (argument about immigration... eek) but what came to mind when you prompted was a memory from when I was ten, my sister was six and my best friend came over for dinner. We were all eating takeaway at the table with my mum and chatting (feeling quite grown up!) when all of a sudden my sister farted. I thought for a moment we would all ignore it, then my friend started giggling, then me and my sister were laughing too. My sister then farted again, while laughing, and we were all in absolute hysterics for ages. It had been a rough time for my family and I didn't have friends over much, and it was just such a light-hearted, warm moment. The memory still makes me smile now.

This is such a beautiful and timely piece you have shared, Nic. I’m sending thoughts and energy to you and her for a gentle passing when the time comes. She is a gogeous woman! Yesterday, I spent the afternoon with my parents cleaning out their attic. Their health has been steadily declining for the last two years, and together we have been periodically sorting through the depths and corners of the house in an attempt to be less overwhelmed when the time comes to sort through all of their belongings. We went through so many old photo albums of my parents as children and as young adults before they met. So many small seemingly insignificant stories make their way to the surface in an afternoon spent in this way. What a memory in itself-kind of a “meta” memory that will stay in my time capsule.

Another good one comes to the surface anytime I hear Lady Gaga. My grandma, who passed away many years ago, was coming to the end of her life just as Lady Gaga was becoming well-known. My grandma would shrug her shoulders and make little fists in her signature dance move and say out loud, “that’s a catchy little diddy” everytime one of Gaga’s songs played. To this day, I still say “catchy little diddy” to myself and chuckle anytime I hear her music!