On May 17, 2023, we received the unfortunate news that our mother’s doctors had done everything possible for her metastatic breast cancer. 

She was initially diagnosed at the end of 2020 with triple negative breast cancer. Per her doctor, This form of breast cancer tends to have a high growth rate and has fewer treatment options available. It also has one of the worst outlooks. Despite that grim prognosis, she came through all of her chemotherapy treatments, surgery, and radiation like a champ. She did everything the doctors told her to do and then some. After about 10 months, she was able to ring the bell. For those who don’t know, that is a celebration for when cancer patients are have finished treatment and are deemed cancer free!

Unfortunately, barely 2 years later, it was discovered the cancer had spread to her brain and spinal fluid. She had been experiencing unexplained headaches and neck pain prior to going for a check up. After the initial MRI, it was determined that she had a large tumor in her brain in a section that was inoperable. Steroids and radiation or both used in attempt to shrink the tumor, however this was unsuccessful and just made her uncomfortable.

She spent two months in the hospital before being sent to a terrible palliative care facility that was about 40 minutes from our home. The conditions of this facility were awful. There was trash in the air vents right beside her bed, we couldn’t get a nurse in for over 20 minutes when we first arrived, we saw numerous patients just wandering around without assistance, one even having an bathroom accident in the middle of the hallway. We decided that even though we weren’t nurses, we wanted to bring her home and care for her there. So that’s where we are currently, home and doing everything possible to make her comfortable and during her last few days. It’s remarkable that she is still with us, because initially the doctors I told her she only had a few weeks but it’s already been a month since she’s been home and she’s still here.

We are thrilled that she is still here with us, but I am so concerned on how to pay for her funeral because there is no life insurance and with life the way that it is, there isn’t much savings between myself or father. Most of my savings has gone to paying for in-home nursing for her while I myself am also on FMLA to take care of her. I don’t have much time left, so I’m going to have to go back to work soon and figure out how to pay for even more in-home nursing to support my father who has his own health issues and cannot really provide aid.

We do not have enough to pay for a funeral and that is where I am asking for help.

Your donation would help us tremendously and would ease our mind of how to lay our loved one to rest comfortably.

https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/alexenc27

Hello.

I have a damaged soul, broken heart and worried mind as I am writing this to you today. A damaged soul because I am now a widow as the result of a tragic car accident which ripped my soulmate and the father of our children away from us. It has left me broken-hearted to see my children suffer from losing “daddy”… My worried mind because…”what am I supposed to do now?” I keep asking myself this over and over again… “What am I supposed to do……”

Brian and I met in my freshman year of high school. It was my first year at there. I came from a smaller school that only went to the 8th grade. Once the students graduated from the 8th grade, it was off to one of the surrounding schools that were much bigger, going all the way to 12th grade. Brian had gone there since Pre-K, which made him the perfect person to show me around and introduce me to everyone. Although, I think he was just trying to be around me because he liked me, though he never admitted it. LOL. He was so dorky back then, with a mullet hairstyle that kids these days suddenly think is “sexy” as my little brother would call it. Looking back now, I laugh… He wasn’t cute at all, but I was totally in love with him. He had a smile that lit up the entire room. That smile while looking into my eyes made me feel like it was just me and him in the world.. just the two of us. Some people are skeptical when it comes to “love at first sight” and understandably so. However, for us, it was just that. Love at first sight.

We stayed together all through highschool and got married my first year of college. Soon after, I was pregnant with our first daughter, Kimberly. I had some complications during the pregnancy which led us to our decision for me to stop going to college and stay at home….bed rest. Our parents helped us through those times, while Brian worked and stayed in college. Times were tough, but we made it through! Once I was pregnant with our second daughter, Braelynn, our lives were great! He had finished college and was now a real estate agent! After years had passed, we finally had a mortgage, 2 vehicles, a dog and fenced in back yard-the works! A traditional marriage and family was my dream and it had come true!… That back yard is where our oldest daughter sits right now on her swing…Thinking of her daddy I’m sure.

It was around 6pm on May 1st of this year that I got the call. The call that changed out lives forever. The girls were eating because they were “starving and couldn’t wait any longer!” Brian’s plate was made and on the table. I knew he would be home any second since he was running a little late. I was making his glass of sweet tea when the phone starting ringing. It was my cousin. She was driving on her way home from work and came up on a wreck. 2 ambulances, firetruck and several police cars, a black truck and what appeared to be my white SUV. She was calling to make sure I was okay…Little did she know, what she was witnessing was my husband on the stretcher getting loaded into the ambulance. That we found out shortly after. Once I hung up the phone with her, I had an awful feeling. Brian’s food was now cold and still untouched; ice was melting in his tea. So I decided to call hospitals. The very first one I called…he was there. I had my sister come sit with the girls and rushed there to be by his side…. Instead I had to identify his body because he was pronounced dead shortly before my arrival.

I don’t know how or why things happen the way that they do. But for whatever reason, my husband was taken from us by someone who couldn’t help themselves from driving while intoxicated. A drunk driver. While I am angry and hurt, I know that our lives must go on. But, how? On top of this tragedy that I feel I will never overcome, we have been charged with $15,000 in funeral expenses. Plus, a mortgage that my parents paid, and carpayments that his parents took care of for us. We had a $10,000 (approximately) savings that we were planning to go on a cruise next year with, but since a funeral came before the cruise, that’s what I spent it on. I have no money, and neither of our parents have anything to help with either. I am drowning…my girls are drowning. How do I save them when I feel that I can’t even save myself. Mostly my oldest daughter…she’s torn apart. My youngest doesn’t know exactly what is going on just yet. She will be one year old on the first of June, but she can feel that we are all sad. Just doesn’t know why. Thank goodness for that.

I do want to apologize for turning this into a letter you would only read in one’s diary.. That wasn’t my intention. However, I do feel a little better now that I was able to share that with someone, so thank you for your time reading. I will end this by saying, I just need some help. Somebody, anybody out there willing to help; I will accept and will forever be grateful.

https://paypal.me/chollandrae94?country.x=US&locale.x=en_US

My name is David, and my world has come crashing down. For the past couple of years, I have been taking care of my mother who had dementia. It has been a challenging journey, but I did everything I could to make her life comfortable and safe. I never imagined that I would lose her so soon, but two days ago, she passed away, leaving me shattered.

To make matters worse, I have been living paycheck to paycheck, and I do not have enough money to cover the funeral costs and make the house payment this month. I want my mother to be buried next to my father like she wanted, but I cannot afford it. Losing my mother has left me heartbroken, and I feel like I am drowning in responsibilities.

I am desperate for help. I cannot imagine losing our home. It is the only place I have to stay, and I have two dogs that depend on me. If I cannot make the payment, we will be homeless. It is a terrifying thought that keeps me up at night.

I am overwhelmed with grief and anxiety. I feel like I am failing my mother, my dogs, and myself. I am scared of what the future holds for me, and I don’t know how I will get through this alone.

I know it is not easy to ask for help, but I am pleading for it now. If someone could help me financially or with a prayer, it would mean everything to me. I need $5000 to help pay for the funeral while still leaving me enough for bills and the house payment this month.

I cannot bear the thought of not being able to give my mother the burial she deserves. She was my everything, and I want to honor her memory by giving her the peace she deserves. But I cannot do it alone.

I am struggling to keep my head above water, and I feel like I am reaching the end of my rope. Life is throwing everything it can at me, and I am barely hanging on. I need help, and I need it urgently.

I am begging for any assistance that comes my way. Whether it is financial or emotional support, I am grateful for any kindness that is shown to me. I am hopeful that someone will come forward to help me in this time of need.

Sorry for stretching it out, the site said I had to write at least 400 words.
The photo attached is of my mother and our two dogs Cinnamon (left), and Cindy (right).

Here is my Paypal:

paypal.me/DWinkleman

My brother entered the Montefiore Hospital Moses Campus in the Bronx, N.Y. on Saturday January 21st 2023. The family was not notified of him being in their care until three days later after his arrival. The doctor stated to me that “there was no next of kin listed so I called his aunt”.  My Aunt says that “the phone call left her confused because the doctor was vague about what was happening with Jason, so the information that was relayed to us was very limited. 

The caring physician gave us 3 different accounts on three different visits of how my brother entered their hospital, so we don’t really know what happened or how he arrived at the Hospital. On our 1st visit we were told that “he entered the hospital unresponsive & we got him back” (Lie#1). The 2nd visit the Doctor told us that  “when he arrived I spoke with him & his complaint was a slight breathing issue, he has slight covid (Lie#2). The 3rd visit we were told “that he passed out while walking to the ambulance” but no one has any idea where this  occurred(Lie#3).

My brother was improving daily despite the fact that he was tied to a hospital bed with his hands bound. I was told all this was being done to keep him calm. She kept him sedated especially when he started communicating with us. The Doctor and the nurse kept trying to convince us that he wasn’t communicating with us while he was doing it with them standing there looking at him. She said “oh no he’s sedated he’s unresponsive”.

January 25th, 2023 I was asked to sign a consent form to place a port in his neck we had not been notified that one was already in place regardless of our many visits to the hospital. When I asked for the day’s date while signing the document, I was told not to worry about writing in the date. I then spoke up stating that there is a port already in place so why is it being changed”?  The Doctor replied “it’s been a week” (Lie#4) My brother had not been there a full week. January 29th, 10:30 a.m. the Doctor calls & says we are working on him, then 5 min later she calls and says sorry it’s not our fault but that it was my brother’s health issues, I told her I was driving & around the corner but she wouldn’t release the call so I had to hang up on her. 

When I arrived upstairs the Dr. came out to speak to me & as I glanced at the  patient’s glass partition I saw 3 to 4 men (secretly) standing behind me?  She starts to reiterate the phone call of how bad off my brother was and how it’s not us we did all we could and then she asks me if I want to “donate my brother’s organs”? I replied “no”. She then asked “Do you want an autopsy”? I said “yes”. She then proceeded to tell me that an autopsy takes 30 days to perform (Lie#5) & would derail any funeral plans that I would want to make (Lie#6), so are you thinking cremation because there is no need for an autopsy we all know what happened (Lie#7) Or you can let the city bury him in potters.            

Only her & her team are privy to what happened with my brother, and her concern for not having an autopsy and disposing of my brother via cremation is alarming. Why is she concerned about my brother’s funeral arrangements that she is derailing? She continuously tried to talk me out of getting the very thing that she offered me “an autopsy”. The majority of the conversation was not about his health, it was about not getting an autopsy and how the body would be disposed of. As I’m trying to get to his bedside she then ends the conversation with “I will see if they will approve it”.

I said to the Dr. “I have one more question to ask you, were you guys able to get rid of the covid or does he still have it”?  She “Oh no he still has it”. I replied ok & walked away (covid?). When I came out of my brother’s room the Dr. stated that “she will see if my brother qualifies for an autopsy and that the pathologist will call you on Monday” (Lie#8). The pathologist never called us. That Monday 2/30/23 I got a call from Carl from medical records stating that “Your request for an autopsy has been denied because your brother does not meet the weight requirements”. Carl stated that he would email us a copy of the hospital policy with the weight requirements (Lie#9), still waiting.

2/9/23 I called the Hospital to advise them that the Funeral director would be coming to retrieve my brother and was told that my brother was released two days prior on 2/7/23 to the Medical Examiner’s office at 5020 1st avenue N.Y., NY.  I was given the case number and telephone number to call. I called the ME’s office only to be informed that my brother wasn’t at that location and was never brought to that location & that they couldn’t provide me with any additional information. 

I start my search for hours on end to locate my brother with no luck tracking his body down. One day at 3:00pm I got a phone call from the ME’s office in Queens who stated this is a courtesy call we have your brother & he’s ready for pick up! I said “I can’t have him picked up this very minute because we were unaware of his  whereabouts and I have to contact the funeral director. The ME replied “when will you have him picked up!” I responded I have to contact the funeral director and give him his location. The funeral home had other obligations and couldn’t do an immediate pick up so I called the ME to relay the message and was told that if he’s not picked up by the end of the week?…  I asked the ME “being that my brother is already there can your office perform the autopsy”? She said “yes” but your brother’s death certificate says “DO NOT PERFORM AUTOPSY” the death certificate would have to be amended in order for us to do it.  I asked even if he has covid? The ME stated that “there is no covid listed anywhere on his death certificate”.

I called the hospital and spoke to Dr.Paul about amending my brother’s death certificate, Dr.Paul said “it shouldn’t be a problem & he would see about getting it done. When I spoke with him last I gave him the ME’s phone number so that he could get a better understanding from the ME on what needed to be revised in order to do the autopsy.  Later the same day I received a chastising phone call from the ME’s office stating “I don’t need the hospital to do anything with the death certificate because we are not doing the autopsy”.  The sentence was then repeated to me more than once.  

The doctor filled out my brother’s death certificate as if he were a John Doe with only his name and an incomplete address. We were there everyday visiting and not once did she ask about his nationality, his parents’ names or anything of that nature that was needed to fill out his death certificate, but she was sure to fill out the funeral director’s portion of the death certificate and the area for potters field.  We were bullied, intimidated and constantly threatened with my brother’s body being dumped in potter’s field. We were harassed with his removal and constantly given misinformation and denied his medical records.  And to add insult to injury I complained to the director of the hospital about all of this and the director asked me “where does this doctor work”?. I said “your hospital”. He says I have no Idea who this woman is, looks her up on the computer and says she doesn’t work here your brother’s doctor is a man.  He says that I will have to investigate this because there is no record of this doctor, she’s not listed anywhere on his medical records .

We are now going on moth three my brothers Birthday is April 4th and we are still trying to get a private autopsy because I refuse to let them get away with this. I called 80 facilities in NYC and no one will touch this issue. I found a pathologist at 1-800 autopsy out in colorado who will perform the autopsy at the funeral home but the funding goal was never met. The autopsy is $6,275.00 and the funeral home charges $500.00 to use their facility. We have a plot that has been previously paid for and we may need an extra $4,000.00 to cover the funeral arrangements. I am more concerned with raising the money for the autopsy that is the most important thing. We need to find out why my brother died and the truth about his death because he is not the only one that this has happened to.

I will not bury him without an autopsy. He and his family deserve to be  at peace. knowing how he passed away is the key.  Thank you for your consideration in advance. 

This Is going to be a rather raw fucked up cold hearted unfiltered full of hate, rage and pain coming from inside of me that most of you hopefully have never seen it but I am angered and heartbroken, relieved and saddened all at the same time so either put on a seatbelt and grab some popcorn or move the fuck on because it’s going to be raw and put right out there.

About 60 minutes ago I received a text from my brother that my nephew Trenton Harris was found shot to  death on a bench in Seattle four days ago; we were just notified because they needed fingerprints notify his mother  Jennifer Pavan Harris Gutierrez.

Trenton was the eldest son of Jennifer and the recently deceased Kenny Harris.  Trenton never stood a chance.  When he died and I don’t know the circumstances surrounding his death but  he had been involved for I don’t know how long the selling of fentanyl. Ultimately I blame not just the shooter, not just  Trenton but my sister (his grandmother) Kathy Rebuck, his mother, Jennifer, and my sort of former half nephew Jennifers half cousin Kyle Pavan. Hell we could also blame the California foster care system from the 1960s and 1970s.

Kathy was married to Richard Pavan the father of seven children including Jennifer,  Trenton’s mother and Rick Pavan the father of Kyle Pavan.
Richards five children including Rick from his previous wife who had been involved in the California foster care system and I am not sure how many of them may have been molested but I know Rick Pavan,when I was maybe 11 or 12 and he was still in high school molested me and possibly one of my other sisters when he had gone to live with my sister Kathy and Richard in 1974 Around the same time that my father was murdered and my sister Ruth and I had to go stay with Kathy and Richard and the seven children until my mom could get her shit together and come back from Washington.

Although Jennifer was Richard‘s biological child and my other niece from my sister Kathy, Charlotte was not , Richard always favored Charlotte over Jennifer and basically ignored her.  During that time Richard was abusive especially to George paven his youngest boy who had it so bad in foster care that he still wet the bed at eight years old and I remember Richard making him sit in scalding bathwater as punishment and Kathy did nothing about it.

Kathy and Richard divorced and she married Robert Rebuck. Because of the abuse and neglect and the drug use that was going on in my mothers house in 1975 1976 when I was in junior high by my mother‘s boyfriend Jack Scott who raped me at age of 12 and my mother choosing him when I tried to commit suicide over it and she told me that she was not gonna make him move out I had to go live with Kathy and Bob. This is already after my mother, who people don’t understand why I don’t respect, did nothing about the sexual abuse she was made aware of committed by my grandfather Cecil Stafford and my father David Stafford. Cecil was a schoolteacher who molested God knows how many people and all the girls in my family. Back then things like that was just families dirty little secrets that people didn’t talk about . Cecil molested Kathy at 12 Ruth was maybe fifth grade. I was in second grade.  My father had molested me when I was 10 and my mother was told about it and she did nothing…. she did nothing with my father molested and prostituted out one of my sisters.

When I lived with Kathy for three years I was told I would never amount to anything if I wasn’t skinny.  I was constantly berated and humiliated in front of my friends and her and Bob’s friends for not being skinny despite being an honor student.  I stayed there through the verbal and mental abuse until I was 16 and couldn’t take it anymore.

Charlotte, I don’t know what all happened with her ( Kathy’s oldest child) but she was an alcoholic that committed suicide in I believe 2003. Jennifer alleged that Robert Rebuck  molested her and that’s why she hooked up with Kenny Harris when Jennifer was still in high school and got pregnant, married Kenny and moved out.

After Jennifer and Kenny who is also the father of Jennifer split up Jennifer had an affair with her half cousin Kyle Pavan who repeatedly raped both McKenzie and Trenton when they were adolescents. Jennifer not only did nothing about it but took Kyle Pavan’s side over her own children’s when it went to trial and Kyle was acquitted. I was sickened by reading police reports of the abuse.

After that time and since that time at various times Trenton and McKenzie and Jennifer‘s youngest son Sam stayed with my sister Kathy both in Elwood and after she moved to Washington state. The three years I lived with Kathy was the worst of my life mentally,even worse than the sexual abuse I had endured at the hands of my father, grandfather and my father‘s friend Ralph.

Trenton, McKenzie and Sam were then involved in drugs, heavy drugs and manipulated and ENABLED by my sister Kathy Rebuck. She did nothing to save those children. Trenton stayed with me briefly until he was arrested and went to prison in 2009 and was in and out of prison after that.

I’ve had nothing to do with my sister Kathy Rebuck since 2013 when she inferred to the police department and the fire department that I had arsoned my own home when it was an electrical fire as investigated by both the fire marshal and the insurance companies. Everything Kathy has touched has wilted and died or poisoned.
Trenton was found shot to death

I blame Kathy and Jennifer and Kyle for Trenton‘s death as he never stood a fucking chance.

The past week has been one for the books. Very tiring, very emotional, and I can’t wait until I have the time to finally stop and breathe. 

Just not yet…

As some of you already know, my daddy passed away on February 15th. Yes, I still call him daddy at 39 years old. 

So how did we get here?

In September of last year, Mark had a stroke. I guess in some ways I feel like we’re lucky. Me and my damn optimism. His physical impairments the 1st couple weeks were moderate, with him needing a 1 or 2 person assist to do most things. He had good days and bad days, and there was no rhyme or reason as to why some days were better or worse than others. His mental impairments were also moderate. He was still very sharp with recognition and talking about his finances and remembering phone numbers.

After a couple weeks in the hospital he was transferred to a short term rehabilitation center to continue speech and physical therapy. He remained in pretty good spirits throughout his rehabilitation stay but he was ready to come home.

The nurses and doctors and case workers needed a plan of action for when he wasked finally released to go home. I became his power of attorney over his finances and health decisions and we decided to transfer him once more to a nursing home temporarily while I got his house ready for his arrival.

A lot of work has gone into the house. Before the stroke had let a lot of things go. While he chose to live in the condition that the house was in, he was also medically, physically and mentally able to make that decision for himself. He had planned on selling for cheap and finding a smaller more manageable home to live in.

He had no heat, hot water, or working plumbing. By no means was he able to live like that after the toll the stroke took on him. If a case worker came to look at the house in the state it was in I’m sure they wouldn’t just say no, it would be a resounding HELL NO.

So my boyfriend and I with help of a few friends had literally transformed the house back into a home, for the most part.

The septic tank needs emptied still and we’re in dire need of a water softener with filtration. We also need an oven, a cook top, a bathroom vanity, among a few other things.

The electric needs updated badly. We’re talking 1960’s, no ground, electric. Half the house has no electric, I’m assuming a bad breaker but I’m not touching it… I had someone come look at it and they wouldn’t touch it either.

So we got him transferred to a nursing home in Whitehall, which he absolutely hated. I reassured him every visit that we were working as fast as possible to get him home.

My last visit there in the beginning of February was different. It felt different, he seemed different. I can’t begin to imagine the isolation and loneliness he felt. I feel like he was losing his faith in me to get him home where he belongs.

He wasn’t talking much to me, just barely responding to what I was saying. At this point I didn’t blame him.

I said goodbye, kissed his cheek and left.

A few days later I get a call from his nurse saying he isn’t doing well, that she recommends hospice and that I need to come see him. She said bloodwork came back fine, but he wasn’t eating and was lifeless.

I felt like he was giving up, I had taken too long and that this was it.

When I got to the nursing home I sat in my car for a little while prepping myself for what I was gonna say and so I wouldn’t start bawling in front of him. A squad pulled in about the same time I did and I had a feeling, but at the same time I hadn’t received any calls either.

I get stopped halfway down the hallway for his nurse to say he got squaded out to the hospital, he wasn’t doing good at all and she gave me a number for hospice.

When I got to the hospital and saw the decline in his health over a matter of about a week, I couldn’t believe it. He looked so frail and weak. He wasn’t talking still, he just looked empty.

The nurse told me that he was sick, full of infection. He had over a liter of urine in his bladder and a severe UTI. One of the issues that was caused by the stroke is he doesn’t empty his bladder. It’s like his body forgot how to pee.

His potassium level was critical and they placed him in ICU where he stayed until the 14th.

They gave him aggressive antibiotics, fluids, you name it, and I was expecting him to bounce back. But day after day he remained the same… still sick, still not himself. I was scared I was running out of time. The hospital said they could keep treating him, keeping him a prisoner with all their wires and tubes and blood draws OR they could stop the treatment and he could go home.

There had been too much damage by the time he was admitted, he even had acute renal failure by then.

I spoke with hospice about his pending release and they started preparations for everything. Any equipment he may need, any doctor visits would be to his house. He never had to go back to a hospital or nursing home again.

Finally, I could give him what he wants, which is just the comfort of being in his own home. Hospice isn’t a death sentence, he could live 10 more years. Hospice has come a long way in recent years and it was exactly what he wanted and needed.

I made the arrangements and on the 14th he got brought home on a stretcher. He was responsive, he was aware he was home. After we got him in bed I said, daddy, you’re home! He got the biggest smile on his face and I felt like everything after that was going to be ok, no matter what. 

He couldn’t do anything at all by himself except lay there. A part of me thought there was hope, that every day, every hour, every minute, if I stayed by his side, fed him, moved his arms and his legs that he would regain strength and one day we would walk down to the pond again. 

But once again, the positive, naive voice inside me was silenced with a quickness.

Hospice came in the morning the next day, as she’s explaining things to me about her plan of action, she paused when she heard his breathing and said, Listen to me….

So daddy pretty much started the dying process shortly after he got home. There’s several stages to it when a person is going naturally. She made him as comfortable as possible while I tried to make the best of the few hours we had left. We couldn’t figure out what he was waiting for, he should have left hours ago. But he kept hanging on…

Around 8 that evening my mom decided to go home, she’d be back in the morning. As soon as she pulled out of the driveway his breathing changed and he was gone within minutes. I don’t know if he was just enjoying being with his family, or if he just didn’t want to hurt my mom by leaving. Either way, it fills my heart and gives me a feeling of peace.

His suffering was over. I felt such relief for him along with such grief. 

Years before he had some final wishes drawn up along with a small insurance policy. Very small.

While reviewing his final wishes, I learned my dad wanted to rest in the mausoleum, just like my grandparents. Unfortunately, the money he left for his final expenses is nowhere close to enough to fulfill his request. In fact it isn’t enough for a basic service and burial. 

I am completely drowning in debt from the expenses incurred over the last 5 months that he was sick.

The last thing I want is to go against his final wishes, he trusted me to make these things happen. So I’m asking for some help. The money I raise will be paid to Greenlawn Cemetery for his spot in the wall.

Any donation is appreciated, no matter the size because it all adds up.

I want to thank you all in advance for your contributions, it means the world to us.

I know a lot of you are going to read through this and ultimately decide not to donate. And that’s totally fine. It seems as though there’s always someone asking for money for something. 

All I ask is for you to put yourself in my shoes for a moment. 

During a time that money is the very last thing on my mind and all I want to do is grieve, I am instead dedicating precious time to trying to get money. It just doesn’t seem fair or right.

I find the cost of even a basic service and burial to be outrageous. Unfortunately it’s a necessity, so here we are…

I am grateful that he had his final wishes drawn up and left a little bit of money to go towards everything. I couldnt imagine trying to figure it all out by myself because of course I want everything to be perfect for him.

If you take anything from this chapter in our lives, let it be this:

The conversation may be hard to start and even harder to finish, but don’t put it off. Your loved ones will go through enough without trying to set up arrangements without your input.

I’m 39 and felt like I was kinda young to get life insurance. I know I sound like a salesman right now, but I got $100,000 policy for $11 a month. That’s plenty to take care of my final wishes, without leaving a burden on my family. 

Please consider donating, even if it’s a few dollars. And please share this, it would mean the world to us.

Thank you