Remembering Andrew

A sweet friend calls every August 13 and asks, “Any fun Andrew stories you want to share.” We talk about him, our husbands , grandkids, and adult offspring. It’s a wonderful chat.

Yes, I miss him.

Yes, I still have days when it hurts to not be able to pick up the phone and call him. I still have days, even six years later when I cry.

But more often, when I think of my fifth child, my third son, I think of the joy he and life he brought into my life. He was bigger than life. Full of mischief and too often without filters. He made me laugh. He made me feel like a good mom.

I’m glad I got to be his mom.

I know many will forget him. Many of my friends ever knew him. His youngest niece and nephew never met him.

He will be forgotten. Maybe even by me if I develop the horrid disease of Alzheimer’s.

But he impacted lives. He made a difference. He was loved. He loved openly. He brought joy and laughter. He lived. He mattered. He lives still. He matters still.

I’m grateful.

Andrew Raymond Duncan 12/24/92-8/12/13


I write about my life, my journey, my family, and my faith. I am wife to one, mom to seven with one in heaven, and grandmother to many. I am also full-time caregiver to my stepmom E who suffers from dementia due to Alzheimer’s. In my spare time I like to read, travel, crochet, bike, and play with our black pug Molly.

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