I suppose it’s a small mercy that there’s so much to be done when parents pass. The notifications and estate wrangling distract from the stunning sense of loss when your foundation gives way. Dad passed six months after Mom and one day after what would have been their 60th anniversary, and life has been turbulent since but never so jarring as when I entered their house to ready it for sale and felt the weight of its emptiness. Who knew I could miss the cacophony of a household with four querulous dogs and a TV with volume at infinity to accommodate Dad’s hearing loss? Who can ever know what they’ll miss until the moment they do?