A Reflection On Loss, Kindness, And Connection (December 24, 2024 - January 3, 2025)

When I posted Ali’s eulogy on December 23, 2024, a eulogy I had written with my whole heart and which Ali’s cousin, Naly, delivered with such grace during the visitation, I thought that would be my final entry here. Ali’s battle with stage 4 stomach cancer had come to an end, and I believed I had said everything there was to say.

But grief is a complicated thing, and in the days since, something extraordinary unfolded. An outpouring of love, kindness, and reflection has filled the spaces where raw sorrow once lived. It has been so overwhelming, so deeply moving, that I feel compelled to share it here, because what I’ve learned is this: in the aftermath of great loss, love doesn’t just persist, it grows.

Ali and I always knew how closely our families and friends had woven themselves into our lives over the years, but the depth of their care, their generosity, and their sheer presence during this time has left me in awe. The Rattanasouk family, the Richmond family, and our broader community of loved ones have risen in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. There were days when there were more helping hands than there were tasks to assign, a rare and beautiful problem to have in the midst of an emotional storm.

Ali’s family, though spread across the world in Laos, showed up in full force. Her mom, dad, sister, aunt, cousins, and lifelong friends, who have always felt like family, made sure her spirit was honored. Many had been there long before her passing, cooking meals, sitting beside her in quiet moments, and providing the kind of steady support that words can’t fully capture.

Her friends from every stage of her life were there, too, from Antioch High School to Nashville State Community College to the many places she worked and touched lives, TS3 Technology, Bank of America, and Wallace CPA. The stories they shared painted a picture of someone extraordinary. Ali had this way of leaving people better than she found them, and their memories are now part of her legacy.

But the kindness didn’t stop with Ali’s loved ones. My own friends and family wrapped their arms around us, both literally and figuratively. Some drove across state lines, others booked last-minute flights. Childhood friends, college friends, coworkers, all showed up, even those who couldn’t make it in person. They sent cards, flowers, and messages that felt like lifelines. These were the same friends who had mailed care packages and supplies when Ali started chemo. Their love didn’t falter, it only grew stronger in the face of her passing.

My Uncle Brad was my rock when Ali passed, helping me through the shock and anguish of those first hours. My brother and mother followed close behind, stepping in to care for Avalynn and Liam, running errands, and taking tasks off my plate without being asked.

Then there was the moment that brought me to my knees. On the morning of Ali’s services, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find my Uncle Randy and Uncle Rod, who had quietly flown in from New Hampshire to be there. I don’t have the words for what that meant to me. They didn’t need to come, they wanted to. And that kind of love, it’s unforgettable.

Amid everything, people never lost sight of Avalynn and Liam. Family and friends coordinated buying, wrapping, and delivering Christmas gifts for the kids, ensuring their joy wasn’t lost in the chaos. It was an act of love that allowed me to focus on honoring Ali’s wishes, knowing my children were being cared for.

Now, 2025 is here. Time, as it does, moves forward without waiting for us to catch our breath. But as I step into this new year, I can’t help but carry the weight, and the light, of the one we’ve just left behind. 2024 was a year of unimaginable loss, yes, but also a year of profound connection, love, and resilience. It has changed me in ways I’m still discovering.

To anyone reading this who did anything for me, whether it was sending a text, babysitting the kids, showing up, or simply keeping us in your thoughts, I want you to know this: I love you, and I appreciate you more than you will ever know. Your kindness has carried me through the darkest days, and for that, I will be forever grateful.