upworthy

grief

@k8tymilla/TikTok

"It broke me."

We simply never know what someone else is going through, nor do we know how a simple bit of connection can offer so much healing.

Twenty-five-year-old server Katie Miller certainly never would have anticipated that a seemingly ordinary conversation between her and a couple dining at her restaurant would lead to her getting a handwritten note that left her "sobbing mid shift.”

But as the scribblings left on the back of the receipt revealed, this was the couple’s first outing since losing their 27-year-old daughter, and apparently Miller offered them a precious gift: an opportunity to smile once again.

 

 handwritten note, server, server life, waitress, tipping, restaurant, kindness, note on bill, grief, connection, losing a daughter TikTok · Katie Miller  www.tiktok.com  

The note read:

“Thank you for your wonderful service. Our 27-year-old daughter passed away unexpectedly about 5 weeks ago and today is the first day I have been able to get my wife out to enjoy a real meal. Thank you for making her smile. You will never know what it means to us.”

What did Miller and this woman talk about that lifted her spirits? Hair and aging. Miller shared with Newsweek that she complimented the woman’s "beautiful curly red hair," noting how “people nowadays are dying their hair to look like hers.” The woman then laughingly admitted she dyed her hair to cover some grays. Miller quipped that she just plucked hers out. That’s it. Such a normal, everyday conversation, but it made such a lasting impact.

 handwritten note, server, server life, waitress, tipping, restaurant, kindness, note on bill, grief, connection, losing a daughter " You will never know what it means to us.”@k8tymilla/TikTok

Then, after seeing the note left for her, Miller told Newsweek, "You would never have guessed. It broke me. It hurts knowing people are struggling like that." Though she didn’t approach the couple again, she decided to share the story on TikTok to help remind others that "Kindness goes a long way. We can truly heal others if we're nice.”

From the slew of similar stories shared by fellow service workers in the comment section, we can take solace in the fact that these occurrences maybe aren’t as rare as we think they are.

“I took my son to work with me once, and a single man who only ordered a $3 beer tipped me $100 and wrote ‘I used to go to work with my mom too. Make sure you take him to the movies after your shift, on me.’ I kept the receipt until it crumbled.”

“One time while working in retail I was checking out these items for this older woman and I complimented her necklace. She started crying and telling me how her late husband gifted it to her. She said I made her day.”

“I had a customer ask me how old my kid was after talking about him for a while. Customer paid up and said ‘your kid is 5, correct/’ I said yes sir. Handed my 5 $100 bills and said ‘use this for him please.’ His grandson passed away, also 5. I haven’t cried that hard in my adult life ever.”

“One time I worked at Sonic, I took a woman’s drink out to her, she was sobbing alone in her car. I felt weird asking but something in me felt it was necessary…she told me her daughter had just recently tried to take her own life and was in the hospital, she wasn't sure if she would make it and was beside herself with sadness. I opened the door and just hugged her. For a moment we both needed that hug. She told me I reminded her of her daughter and how beautiful she is when she smiled. Even since then I learned to always be kind.

“We were really busy one night when I was working the bar at a restaurant I used to work at in college. I noticed a man a few rows back, just waiting in the crowd. Never moving forward. He hadn’t been served and was very hesitant looking worried. I decided to approach him…turned out he was deaf and just super overwhelmed. We wrote back and forth that evening and I made sure I stayed on top of his service. When he left, he handed me a note, and in it he told me he gets ignored a lot in busy places…The last line said, ‘thank you for SEEING me’…it broke my heart thinking about how ppl had overlooked him so often. I’m so glad I could at least make THAT night better for him. I cried in the kitchen for a good bit after he left.”

“One lady at the bar I bartended at was staring at me so oddly during the whole time I was taking care of them…honeslty I thought she didn’t like me. But before they left she came up to me and said ‘this might be weird but it is so good to meet you again’ and handed me a note [that] said I looked and talked and walked, even smiled like her best friend that had passed a few years ago…I cried so hard;I keep it in my glove box now.”

Interacting with strangers is a necessary part of life. Then again, life has a way of reminding us that none of us are really strangers at all. We all carry pain, we all seek out connection, and we all need help finding a reason to smile from time to time. May this be a friendly reminder to be that person for someone else, whenever possible.

 handwritten note, server, server life, waitress, tipping, restaurant, kindness, note on bill, grief, connection, losing a daughter Go out and be kind today. @k8tymilla/TikTok

Pop Culture

Man's dating advice to find the guy who will 'guide you through death' is striking a chord

"Yeah, muscles are cool, but can he sit in the hospital for six hours?"

This is a real life partner litmus test.

We all know that dating can be confusing, disappointing, and...all things opposite of romantic, essentially. That goes especially when we conflate trivial preferences (you know, 6’5”, blue eyes, finance type stuff) with traits that actually align with our values. In other words, when we forget that the criteria for a fling differs from that of a life partner.

As for finding the former, a man named Davi has some pretty solid advice. While it’s geared towards women who are seeking husbands, you can easily apply this PSA to anyone looking for long-term love. The reasons will be pretty obvious, though fairly macabre.

“Your husband will literally have to guide you through the death of both of your parents, so choose that man wisely,” Davi begins in a clip posted to TikTok. “Like, yeah, muscles are cool, but can he sit with you in a hospital waiting room for six hours without making it about his fantasy football team?”

 dating, dating advice, relationships, relationship advice, finding the right guy, life partner, grief, green flags "Yeah, muscles are cool, but can he sit with you in a hospital waiting room for six hours without making it about his fantasy football team?”Photo credit: Canva

The “real test,” Davi argued, isn’t based on aesthetics, but on whether or not you can “trust them to talk to your dad’s doctor when you’re too overwhelmed to do it yourself…and help you through it.”

He even noted that while positive communication, like sending “good morning texts,” and cutesy novel things like “matching Halloween costumes” are still important, they are trumped by how a partner is able to help you during grief.

“It’s, ‘Hey I called the funeral home so you didn’t have to do it. That’s trustworthy. That’s a quality to look for.”

Keeping this question in mind can help you “start figuring out what really matters” and “being picky about the right things,” Davi says, rather than being distracted by what someone looks like. Of course, physical attraction has its place, but as we know, that is the most superficial and changeable quality of a person, and therefore not always the best way to determine a true life partner.

Davi then brought it home with a warning, saying, “One day, life is gonna body slam you with grief, I promise you. And the guy who only brings vibes is gonna fold like a lawn chair.”

 dating, dating advice, relationships, relationship advice, finding the right guy, life partner, grief, green flags “One day, life is gonna body slam you with grief."Photo credit: Canva

Again, this can apply to anyone, but it certainly touches on a common dilemma that many women have lamented about male partners who don’t pull their own weight during challenging circumstances. While they are often referring to childcare, this brings a whole new layer to consider.

“If you find a man who can hold you up when you’re going through it, hold onto that for dear life. Because love isn’t built on butterflies and your little checklist. It’s built on the guy who brings snacks, tissues, and doesn’t flinch when the hard stuff shows up.” Davi concluded.

The video, which has racked up nearly five million views, has certainly struck a chord, and has been met with an overwhelmingly positive response—from people who noted that it "changed their brain chemistry” to women who shared gratitude for having this kind of partner in their lives.


“OMG I NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THIS”

“Excellent advice! This man is going to be your emergency contact.”

“Fall in love with how he treats you, not the muscles.”

“My husband was my rock through the loss of my parents, sister, and our son. Yes. Pick the right man.”

“My dad just passed away and he was there EVERY step of the way. I am so thankful for him and happy to endure all of life’s challenges with him.”

Yes, it's a bleak and uncomfortable scenario that no one relishes having to think about, and certainly not on anyone’s top of mind when it comes to romance, but nonetheless, grief is a big part of life. It’s something none of us want to endure alone. The right partner can make those difficult moments a little easier to navigate, so, as Davi rightfully prompted, choose wisely.

Canva

An In Case of Emergency sign.

“Meet me on the Moon,” I’d said. “If one of us ever dies, that’s where we should meet. We should bring raincoats and flashlights, just in case.”

I said this to a third grade friend, whose name I can’t recall, and then we immediately got into a fight as to whether Snoopy or Garfield was cuter. (Obviously, Snoopy, right?) But it was an excellent plan and one I made, at least in my mind, with nearly everyone I’ve ever loved.

the moon, stars, space, Cosmos, outer spaceEarth's Moon among the stars. Photo by Josh Miller on Unsplash

In just a year and a half's time, my two “in case of emergency” people died. One was my Dad, whose presence in my life was colossal. He was the loudest, smartest person in the room, full of radio stories and Topps baseball cards. You will never meet a person who loved dogs more than him (except possibly myself), and even though he hugged like a Texan— which is just a hard pat on the back—his life force was like a giant swaddling blanket. He’d hate hearing that, because he didn’t like the gooey stuff. But too bad.

I was always making him take “personality” quizzes online and he never understood the point of them. “So I can understand you better,” I’d say. “I like Monty Python. And bacon. What else is there to understand?”

The glow itself didn’t come from him. Warmth wasn’t really his thing. But when I was super young, he’d wake me and my brother up sometimes in the middle of the night to look at the icy rings of Saturn through his telescope. Or the Moon when it was in a particularly rare phase. I’d occasionally sneak into the room when he was watching the original Cosmos on PBS. I’d stroll past his bookshelf, full of theoretical themes and astrophysics. This is where his glow was kept.

We emailed each other YouTube links of songs we liked. I’m not sure he always listened to mine, but it was our way of talking without talking. “Listen to the lyrics.” Or “Get to the bridge when the slide guitar kicks in.” It was between the notes where we found a Dad/Daughter language in which we were both fluent.

-Don Henley, Jackson Browne. Blind Pilotwww.youtube.com

Once, not even that long ago, I proposed this to him: “What if what scientists perceive to be “dark matter” is really just ghosts? We sense something is there, in the fabric of space, but we can’t account for it, because it’s just spirits who were once here and are now gone. Do you think that’s possible?” He didn’t even look up from his iPad. “No. Absolutely not.”

When he got sick with leukemia, I was sitting with him when the hospice chaplain came to visit. My Dad, who certainly wasn’t religious, surprisingly asked, “Do you think we’re reincarnated? Because if so, I’d like to come back as a professional golfer. If I come back as a ballroom dancer, please shoot me and let me start over.”

He then mentioned a fear of coming back as a “water bug.” I said I didn’t think that would happen and he asked how could I be sure. I said, “It’s just the kinda thing you know.”

I didn’t believe he could ever really leave. He’d announced he was leaving for at least 20 years before, (cancer twice, clogged arteries, you name it) and this time around, I thought it was impossible. He had a big birthday party and passed the next morning in his sleep.

Just a Thursday like any given Thursday. I cried noises I didn’t think I could make and then I went to the Moon. I hunted through the cold for remnants of life. I combed through layers of dark matter, asking spirits or professional golfers to reveal themselves. Nothing answered me back.

flashlights, stars, moon, searching, spacesilhouette of man holding flashlight Photo by Linus Sandvide on Unsplash


On a different Thursday, a year and half prior, I saw my best friend (and second-in-command “case of emergency”) Jordan for the last time. I’d dragged him to a dumb “Awards Season” documentary screening, wearing the completely wrong dress that he’d said looked like an Atari game.

He was off that night. But Hollywood is off, so tilted backwards that if anyone stumbles inside of it, they actually seem balanced. Who isn’t off when zombies roam Sunset screaming obscenities and no one seems to notice? The CNN building blink, blink, blinks its red light into our hopeful smog, mistaking us for Time Square, daring us to report how f-ing crazy it all is.

Jordan and I had been sealed the summer of 1997. Boyfriends, apartments, girlfriends, roommates, and dogs came and went, but we were sealed. My romantic crush on him ebbed and flowed until we finally made out for a year in 2005. That put a crimp in the pureness of our friendship and we had to take a few years off for the resentment. I wonder, now, what kind of memories we could have filled in those missing years.

He was that kind of friend who made up nicknames for EVERY. SINGLE. GUY I’d ever even so much as gone on one date with. Star Trek Man. Loud Talker. Crunch the Numbers Guy. The kind of friend with whom you have so many inside jokes, you can’t keep them straight. We wrote lyrics to movie theme songs and would just voice memo them to each other all day long.

He’d gotten really sad around 2016, but hadn’t we all? He got mopey. Started eating poorly, stopped making eye contact. I don’t know if that’s the year he went and bought himself a gun, but that’s what he did.

Four weeks after I saw him, he texted me alternate lyrics to the theme song for the movie Meatballs (which was oddly and hilariously just something about Bill Murray’s face), and then a few days later, he took his own life. I’ve always hated the expression “take your own life,” because it begs the obvious question…took it where? Where did he take it? It makes it sound like he took it to Hawaii on vacation. That life—it was so heavy on me, it seemed impossible to lift. He was my boulder. He was an unmovable green stone that lived inside every tunnel in the gray matter of my mind, dipping in and out like sugar in rum, exploding into light like a Supernova.

space, supernova, green light, art, cosmosan artist's impression of a green spiral in space Photo by Javier Miranda on Unsplash

And so when he left, I got untethered—and not in a good way. I just couldn’t keep my feet in this atmosphere. My darkness turned to rage and then to guilt and then to darkness again. And yeah, that’s all laid out in those pop psych books about grief, but what they don’t tell you is how quiet the in-between moments are. How still and creepy and unkind your own thoughts can be, as if a piece of sepia-toned gauze has been stuck between you and the rest of the world. Once people stop texting “How are you?” you realize the world has continued to spin, even when people you love fall off of it.

So for the last few months, I’d leave my Moon expeditions and bounce back down to Earth to try and fall in love or reconnect or watch the news to understand the nature of man and power and all that comes with it. Ya know, whatever it is we’re supposed to do when we’re alive. But as it turns out, Tinder dates don’t like to hear about this kind of stuff.

Him: “Would you like another martini?”

Me: “…And ANOTHER thing about death and dying is…”

Him: “Check, please!”

So, back up I’d go to the deepest craters, digging for proof of death. Holding my flashlight in its brightest position, searching for signs, as Sagan’s Pale Blue Dot loomed in the background. This same blue dot containing all of my Dad and Jordan’s old photos and trophies and passwords to social media accounts that seem impossible to have ever held such meaning. Wondering if I found them out there, will they know me? Will they remember me?

earth, space, clouds , Pale Blue Dot, planet Earth with clouds above the African continent Photo by NASA on Unsplash

But it turns out I have not been standing on any rock at all. I’ve been in a billion mile dust cloud made up of all the things I wished I’d ever said and done. There is no point of singularity I can return to, as it all just keeps churning outwards. And as you’re hurling through the milky swirls, you don’t have time to grab on to a single thing.

It doesn’t matter how many trillions of times I forget and command Siri to “Call Jordan” or “Call Dad.” Those sound waves become slack tides, and sit stationary, motionless, unable to surf. Though lately when I’ve accidentally asked my iPhone to “Call Dad,” it chooses to “Call Dan”— a guy I went on one awful date with on Bumble. Poor Dan must be so confused…and terrified.

So, I’m touching back down to re-enter the atmosphere for as long as I can. To stop banging my head against the same walls. To try not to turn every heartbreak into “ninth grade Cecily, listening to The Cure on repeat.” Or maybe the opposite…DEFINTELY turn every heartbreak into “ninth grade Cecily listening to The Cure on repeat.” To accept the fact that I’m drawn to people with flaws bigger than my own, perhaps so I can hide inside them like a puzzle piece that never quite fits.

heart, puzzle pieces, love, flawsTwo pink hearts float on a black background Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

And yes, while the “How are you?” texts stop coming, love, even in death, is stronger than any answer you could even give to that insipid question. It exists on its own, whether you’re of sound mind or not. It exists, even if the Moon contingency plan seems elusive.

Reentry from the darkest corners of time, space, faulty neurotransmitters, and loss is a birthright we can’t afford to ignore. So we shouldn't ignore it. We must remember that although we are sometimes left with a void bigger than any black hole, we are the light that escapes. I think of that light, much like time itself, as though it were handfuls of glitter, floating aimlessly through our bodies and the bodies of everyone we've ever known. Our dogs, our late-night strawberry wine crushes, our family, Jordan—and yeah, even that weird Bumble date, Dan, (I guess.)

We must find a way to tether ourselves into the present, even those of us who are constantly searching. Because we will always be searching—for what we once knew, and what we haven't met yet. For me, it's in my dreams and it's always my dad. We're supposed to go to some play or football game or concert. Keys in hand, I call out for him and he doesn't answer. I can still smell his vanilla pipe tobacco lingering in this in-between space, but there's no trace of him for what seems like hours and then I wake up. (Although in one dream, we were headed to the Super Bowl and he briefly appeared just to taunt that my beloved Cowboys were gonna lose. Jokes on him because we hadn't been to the Super Bowl in decades.)

I’ll get back to the Moon soon enough. Until then, I’ll try to stop asking first dates, especially those I meet on Tinder, to be my “in case of emergency” contacts. Too soon, Cecily.

justice_4justin/Instagram

Justin Etienne's mother Tierra Neil presents his prom date Reyaa with corsage he picked out for her.

Prom is one of the most memorable parts of high school. But for student Justin Etienne, an 18- year-old senior at Salem High School in metro Atlanta, it was a milestone that was missed by a just a few weeks. Etienne, a victim of gun violence, passed away in March 2025.

Etienne had planned to go to prom with his date, Reyaa. In an emotional new video shared by Etienne's family (@justice_4justin), his mom, Tierra Neil, followed through to deliver the corsage Etienne had picked out for her for their special night weeks before his passing.

"My heart goes out to all the moms and families mourning loved ones lost🙏 Justin’s mom went to see his prom date off to prom and to give her the corsage he got for her🥺🕊️💕‼️💔," the caption of the video reads.

In the video, Neil arrives at Reyaa's home with the corsage in her hands. She knocks on their door, and after her family opens it, Neil is immediately overwhelmed with emotion. She is met with a hug, and comes inside the home.

Reyaa is waiting for her in a stunning pink gown that has Etienne's face on the front of it. Reyaa is wiping tears away from her eyes as she and Neil share a long hug together.

Neil takes a moment to look at Reyaa's dress and the photo of Etienne. Then she bravely takes the corsage out of the box, and places it on her wrist. Neil tells her, "You look so pretty," and continues to admire her gown that was designed specially for her by her uncle, Kyle Robertson.

The tearjerker video received an overwhelming response from viewers in the comment section. "When she sees the picture on the dress! She knew her son chose a good one which brings on a whole new hurt. Bless these women," one wrote. Another added, "The fact that she found the strength 🙏🏽🥹." Another shared, "My heart breaks in a million pieces for his mom. Justin should be here going to prom getting ready to graduate! 😢"

In another post, Etienne's family shared more details about Etienne and Reyaa. "Before Justin passed he asked this beautiful young lady to prom and she said YES!! Her designer made her prom dress with his picture on it and even her nails has his name on it!!!" they wrote.

In another post shared on her Instagram, Reyaa also opened up about her experience at prom honoring Etienne. "A Night I’ll Never Forget With a Person I’ll Always Remember💔🕊️," she wrote. "And thank you for the encouragement and push to follow through with this for Justin...And Justin, mann we DEFINITELY showed out in our rose gold! I miss you so much man so much, but I know you were with me🥹!"

Etienne's family has started a GoFundMe account to support his memorial and parents during this difficult time, and shared more about who Etienne was. "Justin was one of the kindest souls you could ever meet—quiet, funny, always full of joy, and never one to argue or cause trouble. He had a bright future ahead of him, and his life was stolen far too soon."