Down the Road

Photographs and stories by Jim Grey

Tag: death

  • Comparing and contrasting grief

    I reflect on how I experienced grief with several losses over the last 10 years.

  • First and final memories with Mom

    Before Mom died, I was able to revisit some wonderful childhood memories with her.

  • Redeeming the sins of my father

    My dad gave up in the last phase of his life. I struggle to forgive him.

  • Farewell Abigail

    Saying goodbye to Mom’s dog Abigail, the last of a long line of Labrador retrievers in our family.

  • One year on

    Reflecting on my grief, or more precisely my lack of it, one year after losing my dad.

  • A man needs to feel useful

    A man needs to feel useful, like he’s adding value or involved in something meaningful. I don’t think my dad felt that way in the last years of his life. His choices led him there. I can’t tell whether to feel sad or frustrated.

  • James W. Grey, Jr., 1941-2018

    My father died last week. He finally succumbed to cancer after 11 years. In this post, I tell his life story.

  • Eulogy for Buckethead

    Down the Road is on hiatus, returning Monday, 26 September. I’m rerunning old posts in the meantime. This is the story of Sugar, a wonderful dog I had who died eight years ago. My stepson was over at a friend’s house twelve years ago, running around in the back yard, when the Rottweiler next door sailed over…

  • Good night, Gracie

    I didn’t want her. We already had two dogs and three cats, which I thought was more than enough pets. And I was concerned about bringing this stray dog into our home where our curious and active baby boy might accidentally provoke harm. But my wife’s boundless compassion for unwanted animals overruled better judgment. After…

  • On regret and doing your best

    I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better. – Maya Angelou Sugar was the best dog I ever had. She was smart and gentle and loyal and happy. I had noticed that she had been lethargic for a few days, but I wrote it off. She…

  • Eulogy for Buckethead

    My stepson was over at a friend’s house twelve years ago, running around in the back yard, when the Rottweiler next door sailed over the fence and bit him on the leg. The puncture wounds were not serious and they healed without complication. The dog’s owner was mortified, apologized all over himself, and swore he’d keep his dog…