I’m sure there are things I should be doing. I’m sure of it, but can’t think of what those things are. I’m even more forgetful than I ever was. I write lists and walk away and don’t look at them again. I make phone calls and end up on hold. After being on hold for an hour, I hang up. Who was I calling? And why?
My mind is in a distant place. My mind is a distant place. My mind is distant. Whatever.
I keep wiping the kitchen counter. It’s something I can control: the crumbs.
I’m sure there’s something I should be doing right now. This terrifies me.
What if I start to forget?
Oh God. Please don’t take my memories, too.
Dirt Road Diary 
Kian, your heartbreak is palpable. I’m so sorry.
Your writing is as profound in grief as it is in the great and little joys of life. You have a gift of noticing and expressing your experiences, which your readers recognize bits of in themselves.
I’m praying for you and your family. You will get through this. Ken will always be remembered with love and admiration.
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Dear Friend, you should be giving yourself grace and love. That is the most important thing.
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