A November column about finding comfort after my mom's death struck a chord with many readers, who shared their own -- often inspirational -- stories.
"My mom passed away on Oct. 30, 2005, and I went through exactly what you described," said one man, who lost his dad three years earlier. "Mom was in poor health the last couple years of her life, and since I was divorced and lived just five blocks away, I was her primary caregiver those last couple years, along with working full time. Like you, I found a comfort in going to my parents' house in the days and weeks and months after Mom died that simply could not be found anywhere else.
"About a year and a half after (she) died, but still all too soon for me, (my sister) began the necessary task of cleaning out the house and preparing for an estate sale, and that of course disrupted everything. It was never my plan or intent to keep our parents' house as a museum, with everything as it was when they were still living there. That is simply unrealistic and impractical when an estate needs to be settled and assets divided. Nevertheless, I am thankful for that transition period when I was able to experience what you described, 'to hold what (my parents) once touched, to take in (their scent), to cry with abandon, or just to sit quietly and remember.'"
A woman who lost her father four years ago said she still puts on one of his old flannel shirts when she needs the sense of comfort he always gave her.
"Not a day goes by that I don't think of him," she said.
"I lost my mom a couple months after I graduated high school, 38 years ago," wrote another. "Your article describes what this loss feels like, and how you can draw a small bit of comfort from things she owned and touched. This is something that cannot be explained to someone who has not experienced it. ... I was able to keep some of the jewelry she wore, a corduroy jacket she made in high school which, depending on my current weight, I am able to wear -- even with its slightly worn elbows.
"I am finding an increase in a sort of anxiety about her possessions as I age," she wrote. "I feel an urge to document and photograph each item and its history and discuss these with my sons. I feel a desire to instruct them on not just disposing of these items if they decide they don't want them after I am gone. I realize to them they probably seem like just objects, but to me they are a link to my past and to a part that is missing."
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Another column about Tugboat, a longtime shelter dog who finally found a home, brought this from former caretaker Linda Gottwald at Pine Cone Farm animal shelter:
"What a delight to be inundated with calls from folks, both known and unknown, congratulating Tugboat on his new home. Sharon (Hook) and her husband picked Tugboat up last night. He was rolling on his back in ecstasy in the backseat of their car as they drove away ... so much for worrying about whether he'd miss the farm!"
Hook reports that the 100-pound Lab-pit-bull mix is adapting well, sleeping through the night and not chewing on anything -- yet. He gets plenty of exercise on the stairs of the family's two-story home but often can be found lounging on a leather loveseat or, at night, sleeping on a daybed in his own bedroom.
"He's been very affectionate with both of us," Hook said. "But he waits outside (the bathroom) while my husband showers."
