08/14/2026
Five years out, it isn’t always the milestones that undo me. My heart has somehow learned to brace itself for those days. The birthdays, anniversaries, holidays. The days when you already know grief may be an unwanted visitor at the party.
It’s the ordinary moments that catch me off guard. The ones you could never prepare for.
Today, it was the clicking of a tape measure in my pocket. A staple tool in monument work.
Click, clack. Click, clack.
As I hurried through the cemetery, I heard it.
It was a sound I knew so well, but never realized I had been recording in my memory all these years.
I probably heard that sound almost every day for 35 years. Dad always had a tape measure close by, ready to work, ready to help a customer, ready to serve and minister however he could.
Such a small, familiar sound. But today it landed like a thud straight to my heart.
And just like that, there he was in my memory.
That’s the thing about grief. It doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes it quietly slips into an ordinary moment, and suddenly there you are, missing them with your whole being.
Five years later, love remembers every sound. And grief, it seems, does too.
I share pieces of my own grief as a big hug to our hurting monument customers. I want you to know that we understand this journey is about so much more than choosing a monument. We walk beside you through it in every way we can.
We share in your pain. We pray for you. We listen to your stories and remember the people you love alongside you.
None of us would choose the story of grief. God will take the brokenness we never planned for and, in His time, turn them into beautiful testimonies of His goodness and faithfulness.
If you are walking through grief today, please know you are never just a customer to us. You are a family carrying a story, a love, and a loss that matters. It is an honor for us to walk beside you. ❤️
- Katie Clayton Van Antwerp