THE DEATH DISPATCH

A special edition. The regular sections come back next Sunday.

FROM STEPHANIE

This was supposed to hit your inbox yesterday. It's late, and I'm sorry. Yesterday was my dad's birthday, and some days get to be about him.

September 20 would have been my dad's 66th birthday. He only got 61 of them. It's been almost five years since he died of brain cancer. It doesn't feel real. It sure as hell doesn't feel right.

This is why MORTL exists. It's not just that he's dead. It's that the people he left behind still care about him and need to understand how to cope with his absence.

There are many ways to remember the people we love who have died. Some of us keep a ritual. Some of us stay in bed. Some of us do something, anything, to keep their memory alive as long as we can.

For me, it's about my son never forgetting his Pop Pop. My dad died when my son was only 1. He shouldn't remember him. He does. I don't let him forget that his Pop Pop loved him more than anything on earth. Even when my dad was sick, he made a point of holding his grandson, loving on him, and teaching him the silliest things. That time existed, and it deserves a place in this world.

So I show my son pictures. I tell him stories about Pop Pop and all the things he did in his life. I keep talking about him so he's just part of our world. I'll never stop talking about him.

FOR THE ONES LEFT BEHIND

If you're keeping someone's memory alive, here's what's on MORTL for you:

SEND THIS TO SOMEBODY

If yesterday was one of those days for you too, send this to the person who would get it.