Trigger Warning – Death of a loved one.
I wanted to update everyone on where things are in my life, but I also feel like I want to keep most of it private and close to my heart. I will try to word this in a general sense, rather than speak specifically about my relationship with those involved.
The word “hospice” never fails to send a chill down my spine. It’s so much more than losing a loved one. It’s tear-soaked eyes, hushed voices, unanswered questions, anger, exhaustion, prolonged emotional agony, wondering, wishing……..Waiting.
My first encounter with hospice was when my grandmother was sick with cancer. I was in my early twenties and had gone to visit her. I remember laughing as she pointed the television remote toward the large glass window on the opposite side of the room, mumbling incoherently about the television being broken. I thought she was being silly, but when I noticed that no one else in the room found it as amusing as I had, I realized that somehow in the span of two days, she’d forgotten what a television was.
My mother explained that she was comfortable and at the end of her life, so very soon she would no longer be able to speak. She comforted me by reminding me that my grandfather, as well as my paternal grandmother would be waiting to welcome her at the gates of Heaven. She urged me to talk to her and say what I wanted to say before it was too late. It felt awkward and uncomfortable…So I didn’t.
Less than a year later, I stood beside the bed of my 47-year-old mother as she drew her last breath. This was my second encounter with hospice. Cancer had taken her at an offensively early age and a startlingly short time. On her last day I opened my mouth to say all the things I needed to say to her before she was gone, but the words wouldn’t come out. At this point I was hopelessly addicted to drugs and unsure of what to say. I wasn’t there for my mother during her sickness and couldn’t “bear” to see her in such a frail state. So, I stayed away.
I’ve forgiven myself for most of the things I’ve done while on drugs, but my lack of action during this time she needed me most is unforgivable–for now anyway.
Six years later, I was sober and present for my father as he laid in the hospice bed, resting peacefully at the end of his life. He had waited for all of us to leave the building before he took his final breath, but we were lucky enough to hold his hand afterward and say goodbye. I imagine he was already drifting to his next destination at this point, but it still felt healing to kiss his forehead one last time.
I hadn’t once managed to say the things I needed to–or should have said. I never wanted to have those conversations with them because it would be acknowledging the fact that they were dying. So instead, we had surface-level conversations and danced around the giant elephant in the room. When they were gone, they were gone and all that remained were all the unspoken words that will forever live in my mind with no place to go.
My mother had met and married a man when I was nine years old. He was a police officer, and my sister and I lived with him and my mother full time. He stepped up to raise us when my father wasn’t able to. He was there for my fifth-grade graduation, my first boyfriend and my first heartbreak. He drove me back and forth to my first job, cheerleading practices and cooked my date and I a delicious meal before the homecoming dance. He taught me how to drive a car, cook a killer egg sandwich, and most importantly, how to love another person’s children as if they were my own.
After my mother passed away, My stepfather eventually remarried and decided to retire from the police force and move to a lakehouse in Georgia. He allowed my family and I to move into the home he was leaving behind here–for next to nothing. He just wanted to know we were safe.
He has a name, but from the time they were born my children called him grandpa. I’m sure my father and mother wouldn’t have minded, but even if they had, I wouldn’t have been able to get the kids to call him anything else. They adore him. We visit him at the lakehouse often and have created some memories that will last a lifetime.
As I stood by his hospice bed this week, holding his hand and making jokes to lighten the somber mood in the house, I decided to do something different than I’d ever done.
The words flew from my lips with urgency and determination. I thanked him for all of the things he had done for me over the past 27 years. I promised him my children would know him, assured him we would keep his memory alive, and told him beautifully personal, sacred and special things that I won’t share here. He responded, “Take care of my grandbabies for me”, and many other heartbreakingly moving things that I may not have gotten to hear if we hadn’t had this conversation. We acknowledged the truth about what was happening with him and cried together for a bit before he drifted back to sleep.
My tears were not tears of sadness. They were tears of joy and peace. For the first time in my life I was able to leave nothing left unsaid with someone I cared deeply about… before I missed the chance.
I’m sure my mother was there to meet him with open arms yesterday when he left, and by now he has probably told her all about how silly, loving and adorable her grandkids are.
Experiencing loss changes a person forever. Experiencing the loss of most of my core family members puts me in a strange position. At times I feel lost, uprooted, orphaned, alone and heartbroken. But I know my family wouldn’t want me to cease existing in their absence.
So, I will continue to march on, telling everyone I love how much I love them as often as I can. I will always say the things that need to be said and give the compliments that need to be given. I’m going to drop the people who bring me anything other than peace and joy, and love those remaining folks as fiercely and urgently as I can.
This post was mainly a way for me to get my thoughts out onto paper, but also, I suppose, a gentle reminder to surround yourself with people who bring you joy, tell them how wonderful they are as often as you can, and never, ever, ever, feel embarrassed or ashamed to say what you feel to the people you love while you can.
Thank you for your patience with me as I navigate this season of my life.
Self awareness is what you are able to articulate so beautifully. You have walked through personal growth and have such a wonderful perspective. Everyone grieves differently. I’m glad you are able to share such a heartbreaking season of your life. You still have such a beautiful heart to offer advice of things left unsaid before you healed.
(PS Loved your videos since that makeup tutorial from forever ago)
Tiffany, I’m so sorry honey. I’ve been where you are and nothing anyone says will make it better. Please know you and your sweet babies are being prayed for through this hard time. You are loved by many sugar. Thank you for being so open and honest with us. You are truly an inspiration.
Death is frightening, but it sounds like you are coming to the understanding that life is nothing without death. We can only truly appreciate what we have if we truly understand that it is not permanent. For anyone who is in the process of losing someone they love, please say all the things. They need to hear it and you need to say it.
Tiffany, first off I am so sorry for your many losses. I too lost my grandparents in my early 20s and never knew what to say to them though in my mind I had a million things to say. It’s been 8 years and I still dont think I’ve fully processed either one of their passings. Death does change you forver, you’re right. I also want to commend you for being so strong, brave and vulnerable. At least for me, having those open conversations pulls back the thick survival mode skin I’ve created for myself. It’s not an easy thing to do, but sometimes its needed. To allow yourself to become vulnerable, I’m learning, can intertwine with strength. I’ve watched your videos for years now and you have brought so much joy, laughter and reassurance that I’m not alone. So know, you’re not alone either. My heart goes out to you and your family. And though we might not know eachother, please know you’ve got a friend in me. (Toy story always cheers me up) Much love to you.
-Melissa Gould
If you happen to see this… thank you. For making me feel less alone. For being authentic and amazing. My mom passed in 2015 unexpectedly. Two days before mother’s day that year. I drove to work that morning and had an urge to call her. I saw the sunrise and thought wow mom should see this. I then decided not to wake her that she hadn’t felt good lately she needed her rest. I never got to say all the things and I regret our last conversation over the phone. My youngest was one and my oldest was 5. I had been struggling with single motherhood and life in general at 27 and I was frustrated she couldn’t look for a tool I needed at the time. The card and flowers were in my car ready to deliver to her that Sunday. The thing I remember in that blurr of funeral and the journey to my “new” normal was a simple statement. I’m sure you’ve heard it but it’s worth repeating. The love you shared is not lost only transformed. Taking a different shape of what it once was, it still exists transcending time and space. – Don’t let grief cloud your skies for too long and still take the chance to talk to them. They can’t acknowledge your or speak back in the way we typically have a conversation. Speak your heart. I know you will be heard because it comes from your heart. I am so sorry for your loss. Know that you are loved beyond measure sweet lady.
Oh my’ I’m sorry for your losses. You brought tears to my eyes as I ponder on my own memories. It sucks to learn life mistakes as we are the lucky ones to make it this far in life. We live to learn.. But we also need to remember to learn to live.. Thank you for graciously sharing. ((HUGS))
I’m so happy for you that you could say all the things you needed to! What a gift to him, and yourself ❤️ How amazing that you got to have such a special person in your life. I hope you find peace and joy for eternity 🙏 Thank you for being vulnerable and sharing with all of us. You are so hilarious and bring light to my life! Thank you for that also! Loving thoughts to you!
I am so glad you got to connect on a deep level before he died. I, too, have experienced Hospice with relatives, but with many hundreds more as a hospice nurse. If you have any thoughts you’d be willing to share as to what we can do better, I’d love to hear it so I can grow and be more effective. I’m sorry for the loss of your step dad, but joyful for your peace.
Condolences Tiffany to you and your Family. You have endured so much close loss at such a young age. God Knows your heart in all your instances of loss. And so your loved ones know. You were there, and they weren’t alone. I’ve lost a lot of family to sudden death and addiction. To have the moments you have been given with yours, what a blessing. God Bless you in your grief, healing and continued recovery. And prayers for all still in it. Amen
We Love you Tiffany
Lisa, Rosemary and Chino
Thank you for this. Sending all the love that I have to you and your loved ones💜A man who isn’t my father raised my sister and I, she was 6 months old, I was 4, I love him more than life, and dont even deserve him!
My first encounter with hospice was June 2021. My father, at 67, was taken from us by cancer also. We surrounded him for days but in that time, I too could not tell him what I wanted to most. I love you was as deep as I could manage. Sometimes it is hard to say all you want because it is hard to admit it is the end. His sister (my closest Aunt) followed him home the same way less than a year later. Again, things left unsaid. This has bothered me too, mostly things I wish I had told my dad. But I know he knew. Just because it wasn’t verbalized doesn’t mean they didn’t hear it from your heart. My dad knew. My aunt knew. I know they are still present even though their body is gone. They still hear us. They know. Praying for you and your family in this difficult time. Thank you for all the joy you spread in this harsh world, making it a little brighter just by being you.
I’m sorry for your loss
I’ve worn these shoes and am hugging you so very tight as you and your family navigate this sad time. My deepest condolences to you 🙏🏾 🕯 🕊
Tiff? Just wanted to say I love you. We don’t know each other- but you’ve deeply impacted me with your comedy (saw you live just a few weeks ago!) and your honesty. So. Right back at ya, sister. Love you. Thanks for being who you are out here in the world.
You expressed this beautifully. Many of us can relate to words left unsaid. It is great you were able to change that around. You are an amazing person and touch many lives by sharing. Thank you.
Thank you so much for sharing your life and experiences. I’m very touched. I’m very sorry for your losses. I can relate with you. I lost my Mother suddenly when I was 14. I came home from the last day of school in 8th grade and she was gone. Her boyfriend at the time was like a Dad to me and later a Grandfather to my children. Grandpa Roger. I spoke with him on the phone the night before he passed a couple of years ago. I just thought at the time he would be okay. I was planning on visiting him with in the next month. I spoke with him very lightheartedly even though he couldn’t say much. That conversation is one of my biggest regrets. I was making light of the situation thinking that would help him feel better. He was actually dying and I feel like didn’t give him the respect he deserved in his last hours. I would have told him all the things, like you did with your Step-Dad. Thank you again for sharing. I’m so glad you were able to have such a special time with him when you still could.
Awe, Tiffany, what a gift for you to be able to share with this beautiful man. You are an amazing soul, so full of love and we are all so lucky to have you as part of our lives! Thinking of you during this difficult time and sending so much love! 💕💕
You are the strongest, most beautiful soul I know! Thank you for sharing your life with us Tiff! I am so grateful for you, & the parts you do share! Keep going! ♥️
I’m so sorry for your loss, Tiffany ♡ I really am so happy for you that you took this leap that seemed so hard to do and that you were able to find peace in it. You’re an amazing person that’s helped so many people and I hope you always remember what you mean to everyone here. Thanks for always sharing your stories and giving the rest of us a push in the right direction! Prayers are being sent to you and your family
It hurts so much reading your story just with what you wrote made me cry and let’s me know I need to do some changes before it’s too late… I hope you get better soon and I know your a strong mother and you can do this
Hi Tiffany,
In 2018 I lost my best friend and my grandmother in the span of 2 months and at this time I was in active addiction. Though I can not relate to losing a parent, I do agree that loss changes us forever. I am glad to hear you are finding peace where possible. I found some in reading this article. Thank you for that. Much love.
Tiffany, I am so sorry that you lost someone so important to you. I to know this feeling. I am 42 and lost both of my parents by 40. No Grandparents since I was a child. No family. I felt like my soul was taken with my Mama when she passed. My Mother was taken without even knowing she was sick. I didn’t get to say the things I needed to say to her. 2 weeks just wasn’t long enough. I send prayers and Hugs to you and your family. ♥️
You’re so brave to share such an intimate thing, and vulnerable. Thank you for trusting this community of your supporters. You continue to inspire and amaze not only me but many others I know. I live in Sarasota so if you ever need a stand in mom, for a good ole mom hug, hmu!! Love you!! So sorry for your loss.
You are a very special woman, who has done so much good for so many of us!! I am blessed to ‘know’ you. May G-d keep you and your family well. Sharron
Tiffany, I am so very sorry for your loss. But I am so glad for you that you were able to say the things you needed to. It really does make such a difference for us who are still here. I lost both my parents, I didn’t get to say much to my Dad. I sat with my Mom for days and talked. It is so much better. Prayers and thoughts for you and your family ❤️
Sending you love and light. You are an amazing person and thanks for sharing that at a time when you are raw.
As always thank you for sharing your story and life events. You are not alone, understanding the orphan feeling. What a gift you got to say goodbye. Sending hugs and prayers.
EO
THANK YOU for this – I truly hope this was your first step in healing.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Even in loss, we are able to grow and make changes to better ourselves and our futures. You learned from your previous heartbreaking losses and made sure to say what you wanted to say this time. That’s amazing. Thank you for sharing this with us and for reminding us what is important.
Tiffany I had the pleasure of meeting you in Anaheim recently and told you how you and your videos saved my life, my marriage, and my sanity as an ICU nurse during the pandemic the last 3 years. It shows your true character that during one of the hardest time in your life, you still showed up for your fans and displayed strength and encouragement to others. My only wish is that I would have been able to give you a big healing hug. You truly are a special, kind, generous, beautiful soul. I’m case you haven’t heard this lately, I am so happy you were born and are with us now.
Hugs to you sweetie. I have had to watch many of my loved ones struggle while on hospice. My dad, mother, grandma, great aunt, father in law. It is always difficult.
I am glad this time you were able to put words to what your heart was feeling with him. ❤️
You have handled a situation that in various circumstances comes to us all. Eventually we will all experience what you have in our own ways. But YOUR way of approaching it could be used by all of us. Thank you. Gates of Heaven, I pray, for all of us.
Tiffany, you have a way with your words and spirit, that make me feel like I have known you all of my life. What you just wrote was none other than real and wonderful. There are so many things in life that one is afraid to step up and do, because of unknown outcomes. Death is such a delicate subject, but if we are real and ask questions and talk about things, and let feelings be known, we never have to wonder later on. I saw my Dad take his last breath in the emergency room, on April 23rd, 2011 at 10:16pm. I will never forget it. There are so many things I didn’t get to tell him…he was unconscious. Yes, the nurses would say, talk to him, he can hear you…but really…could he? I have never shared this before…first time saying this…I wanted to look into his EYES and tell him what a wonderful dad he was and that I loved him so much. I wanted to thank him for the countless times he helped me through life, and the wonderful advice he always had for me. I wanted to tell him that I would miss him so terribly, that I didn’t think I could go on…and for him to tell me, “yes, Cherie, you will go on”. I wanted him to be there for me when I first learned that my youngest son was struggling with meth…I knew he would guide me on how to handle it…or to just cry on his shoulder. I still don’t know what to do with that situation… I know life is a gift, I know death is a part of life…but it doesn’t make it any easier. You are a true gift from God. Thank you for sharing your story and being brave enough to just “talk”. I so wish I could get in touch with you. I have watched your lives and you have said hello to me and mentioned my name. Thank you.
My heart is with you. I lost my mom in 1983 when I was 29, she was 46. She laid in coma for 9 days before the machines keeping her here were shut off. My brother and I had that horrible decision to make. I too was lost for words… words that were needed to be said. Fast forward 2018…. I lost my daughter, Misti to heroin addiction. She was 47. I had been the “tough love” mom. It was so hard to build a relationship with her. Something I regret to this day. In January 2018 she and her husband were homeless. It was bitter cold out. She called to ask if she and her husband, Mike could stay with me until the weather broke. Reluctantly I said yes. I month later she died in my home. I didn’t get the chance to say anything to her. She left behind her husband who was 60 years old. Also, a heroin addict. He and I struggled through the grief and his addiction. He got clean, got a good job and was doing great. For 4 years Mike was a true blessing to me. There wasn’t anything wouldn’t or didn’t do for me. He was a son to me. Then in January of this year he was diagnosed with inoperable, incurable stage 4 liver cancer. I like you made sure there wasn’t anything left unsaid. I told him how much I loved him, how proud I was of him and thanked him for always being there for me. He was taken to hospice. The night before he passed, I called to talk to him. Even though he no longer spoke he made sounds trying to respond to my voice and what I was saying to him. I find as we get older, our thoughts, feelings and words come easier. We realize the value and impact certain people, or events have had on our lives. Then and only then the words flow. God bless you.
Sending all our love to you and your family ♡
My deepest condolences to you & your family Tiffany. Beautiful words written. I’ve set by a hospice bed, speechless & I’ve sang by a hospice bedside. You regret the silence so, so much & there is no second chance. So, thank you for the reminder to never take these moments we have on earth with our loved ones for granted. I hope those bed side moments help you heal. ❤️
Beautiful. Just, absolutely beautifully written. Blessings and gratitude to you and your family.
I am so very sorry for you & your families loss! Cancer has taken so many loved ones of mine too & I still wish I could have said the things I wanted to say to them but I know they know how much I loved & cared for them….I am sending you all so many virtual hugs!
Oh, my heart just breaks for you. I sit here, Spring Break, kids being Wild and crazy, just hoping for 15 minutes of peace. As I sit at the table with tears from reading your post, the same wild and crazy kids have some sixth sense and come running, asking why is mom crying. Ahh, kids…
The bravery and rawness of your post brought about a realization of death that must be faced. See, my elderly parents just drove 2 days to GA from NY because my aunt came home on Hospice. My mom takes complete care of my dad who suffered a stroke in 2015. He’s wheelchair bound and has lost the use of his entire left side. They also have a dog in tow…. because without credentials, he is an absolute therapy pet for them (even though he’s an a$$hole to everyone else).
This hits home when my grandma came home on Hospice in 2004. She laid on her bed for one day short of a month. My now-husband and I were there when the Hospice nurse (God bless them because they do such a vital job at one of the hardest parts of life) gave my grandma a sponge bath. The family pastor whom we had all known for years was also there. He had said, some people just want to be clean and refreshed when they go, which made perfect sense for my grandma. She was neat as a pin (and sharp as a tack, I always say). She passed shortly there after. I’ll never forget that moment and although it may be nearly 20 years ago, I remember it perfectly- the sound, smell, views, emotions.
Although easily remembered, I don’t venture there often. But it has opened up so many topics so thank you for sharing something so personal and heartfelt. I felt growth through reading and reflecting. I pray for your strength and continued peace. I have followed you for years, but rarely comment. I appreciate you’re openness and recognize humor as a coping strategy through many of life’s challenges. ❤️❤️
I lost my dad very suddenly not that long ago and I feel hate and upset that I wasn’t able to give him one last kiss or cuddle and to tell him how much we love him even though I know he knew it. This is so beautiful and well done on everything you have achieved your loved ones will be watching down on you with tears of pride I assure you that . Sending you love and light ❤️❤️❤️
You just put into words what i have not been able to so many times over the last 38 years.
Thank you ❤️
Sending love and light! Thank you for your bravery in being so transparent about your growth! We’re here for it all! ♥️
Tiffany, I am so sorry that you are going through this. Just know that you have so many people who love and adore you and are praying that you are able to get the strength to continue to heal. I too have lost many people in my life, From my dad, to my sister and now my brother Is not well. All of them died from addiction… I feel your pain and you articulated this message so well. Sending good vibes and lotsa love your way.
As a LTC nurse, reading this brought me to tears. I’m so happy you were able to say everything you wanted to say, I send you so much love as you navigate this healing stage in your life, you will come out stronger on the other side. I also want to thank you for sharing your story, it will help so many people. Hugs to you and all your family.
This post brought me to tears. I understand loss. I understand feeling broken from losing my Mother too. I feel similar things to what you are feeling and am so happy you put the words to paper allowing all suffering from loss to know how unavoidable and heart breaking it is but we all need to live. Live life. Continue without our people. Our people want us to succeed. Our people departed will always be in our hearts. I truly am sorry for all your losses. It’s alot!!! hugs to you and your family.
My heart truly goes out to you. Losing that many close family members must be terribly lonely. As a recovering addict myself, I know thoughts of backsliding can be very real and powerful. I have faith that you will get through this grief and come out stronger and tight than ever before. I have a strong belief that everything that happens in our lives, no matter how minute or random, it happens because God has planned it that way. There is a reason. I hope that you may come to see what the reason was, sooner rather than later, to help in the healing process. And know that your loved ones on the otherside know what is truly in your heart, and understand why it was difficult to have that conversation with them. They don’t care. They are proud of you. I believe it happened this way so you could truly appreciate what you are sharing now to help inspire others.
Sending love and prayers your way! I didn’t go see my grandfather, while he was sick with small cell carcinoma, until close to the end. I will always regret that but when I did go see him we had a wonderful conversation. I left knowing that I was loved unconditionally and that he was so proud of me.
Tiffany, i’ve cried all the way thru this. I can totally relate as i’ve let two of the most important people in my life pass without saying goodbye, regretting it everyday. Thank You
Oh Tiffany,
I’m so deeply sorry for all your losses. Words can’t comfort your sorrow so I’m just sending my love to you and all who loves those lost. My prayers, energy, and all positive energy are sent your way. May you find peace after the pain. 🙏🏼
Sarah 💛
My heart goes out to all of you during this time. You words hit me like a brick, as I, too, was not able to tell my loved ones things I should have. My mother died over 26 years ago. I did not come to terms with her death until 1 year after her passing. Crying in the grocery store, at my desk in school (I put myself back in college as a single mother of 2) and basically fir no reason at all. My father just passed away 3 years ago. I sat with him – we all kind of joked during his good times. When he decided to go, he went. I tried to speak words of how he had helped me but they never really came to fruition. Skirted around the message. I hope he knows, all 4 of his daughters loved him.
Thank you for your words! They meant so much to me. I beat myself up because I did not say all I wanted to; but, according to the Bible, I shall see them all again. Much love to all of you.
As you stated, tell others how you feel! I do and actually have other friends now returning the sentiment. With all that said: I LOVE YOU!
Even in your sadness, you are inspiring!
Remember that these seasons are what create who we are today… and I am CONFIDENT your “core” family is proud of you!
Sending you all the positive healing vibes.