Megan St. Marie

The Last I Love You: How Memoir Writing Guides Us Through Grief


A blog post by
Cecelia Allentuck, Publishing Intern

There are no guides to grief. No Grief for Dummies book, no owner’s manual to the bereaved heart. You have to just...feel grief…until it fades to a low simmer in your gut. That feeling can be overwhelming, with grief inside your heart and somehow outside of yourself, too, threatening to devour whatever lies before it. How do you stop it? I wish I had an answer that fit every mold, that could be placed in the hand of every grieving person consumed by their own feelings. But I don’t.

As an 11-year-old, I found my way through grief by walking alongside it, exploring all the caverns of my heart that a loved one left behind, and writing every step of the way. That year, I lost my Uncle John to cancer. I held tight to the hand of my mother, the strongest woman I know, as she lost her brother, who was also one of her best friends. A few months later, while my family and I were still reeling from the loss, my sixth-grade teacher assigned our class a short narrative piece that was supposed to teach us how to show “explosive moments in our writing.”


I find myself turning to writing as soon as I feel grief creeping up on me.


Uncle John’s death was explosive—a shock that left me with a growing feeling that I couldn’t shake away. That feeling was grief. I was so young, using a locker for the first time, switching classrooms every block, smiling at my friends in the hallway. Everything might have seemed normal, on-track, but grief was dancing along the folds of my brain, beating in the blood from my heart, and weighing my shoulders down to a sag.

I decided to write about it.

The writing was a short memoir-like piece, titled, “The Last I Love You.” In it I described the day I visited Uncle John to say my final goodbyes. I wrote about the anxiety of anticipation, waiting for an end I never wanted to arrive, and how strange it felt to both know something bad was about to happen and still be unprepared for it. I wrote about the love I had for his dogs, and my worries for their future without him. Uncle John was a person I’d known my whole life, and then he was gone, the stranger that was grief entering in his place. I wrote about the discomfort I felt at his loss, wearing grief like wet jeans, itchy and tight and heavy, as I navigated the unfamiliarity of the world without him. I wrote about how the last “I Love You” I spoke, even though faintly, even if it went unheard, had helped carry me through the months after his death. And as I wrote, my bottled-up grief came pouring out all at once.

I read my piece out loud in front of my class, something I am not sure I could do today, sharing my feelings with old friends, new friends, and students I wouldn’t interact with after that year. With shaky hands but a loud voice, that experience taught me that writing is a superpower, giving us courage and strength by putting words to feelings and making them less overwhelming.

When I wrote this assignment, I never expected that doing so would change how I work through my emotions. Although writing cannot fill the space left by the loss of a loved one, I discovered that it allows me to sift through the messy feelings, extract the good and bad, and create beauty from pain. Years later, I find myself turning to writing as soon as I feel grief creeping up on me. Not only does writing hold my hand through the bad moments, but it reminds me to look at grief from love’s perspective. There is no grief without love, after all. Love gives us something to grieve. Love creates space for grief to settle in. Love transforms grief into a friend who keeps those we’ve lost present in our hearts. Love makes the last “I love you” I shared with my Uncle John not a final goodbye, but a promise to remember him always.

The first part of the short memoir piece that the author wrote about her Uncle John when she was 11 years old, published in the AFAM Point of View newspaper, January 1, 2018

The author’s Uncle John with one of his three dogs, Mojo

Gianna Allentuck (the author’s mother) and Uncle John


Cecelia Allentuck is publishing intern for Modern Memoirs, Inc,

"Being With You Is Everything: Discovering Your Baby’s Voice"

A Personal Reflection

Megan St. Marie holding her daughter in the NICU, 2006

Four of my seven children, a son and three daughters, came home to our family through the foster system here in Massachusetts. They were at different ages when placed with us, and the youngest of my daughters was a tiny newborn when I first laid welled-up eyes on her. I emphasize the word “tiny” because she was a preemie, born about ten weeks early, and social workers matched her with our family while she was still in the NICU. At her smallest, she weighed just 2 lbs. 14 oz., and though she was over 3.5 lbs. by the time of our first meeting at the hospital, she still seemed impossibly small. She made my then-toddler elder daughter—a petite 5.5 lbs. when she was born four weeks early—seem downright cherubic in her newborn photos, and she was less than half the weight of the full-term son I’d had nine years earlier.

Under the excellent guidance of the doctors and nurses in the NICU, I gingerly held this tiny baby girl, fed her, and even changed her playing-card-sized diapers, marveling at how fragile and strong she was all at once. “This baby is the best eater here,” a nurse told me one day. “We have to feed her first, and she drains her bottles in a flash!”

In addition to visits from our family and the social workers assigned to her case, my daughter’s birthparents also visited her in the NICU. I will always be grateful that this was possible for them. She received so much from her biological parents—her impossibly long eyelashes, her curly hair, and her warm brown skin; her artistic talent; her broad shoulders; her height; her extroverted personality—and I know she also benefited from their loving visits in the NICU, and from knowing these took place, even if she can’t remember them today.

My certainty of the importance of those visits was reinforced by a recent book project I was honored to work on at Modern Memoirs, Being With You Is Everything: Discovering Your Baby’s Voice by Deborah Buehler and illustrated by Annie Zeybekoglu. They describe it as “a little book with a big message,” and although it seems like a children’s book with its small trim size (6” x 6”), brief text in verse, and illustrations on each spread, it is actually a book for parents and other caregivers of premature and at-risk newborns.  It even includes blank journal pages to prompt caregivers’ written reflections on the tender, sometimes scary, sometimes hopeful NICU days.

Buehler’s gentle, spare, affirming text is written in the “voice” of a NICU infant, inspired by her experience working with the Newborn Individualized Developmental Care and Assessment Program (NIDCAP). This evidence-based caregiving approach was founded by Buehler’s mentor, Heidelise Als, PhD, in the early 1980s. In the blurb about the book on our online shop, Buehler explains that through training, resources, and support of NICU professionals, parents, and other caregivers, “NIDCAP helps premature and at-risk infants be understood and to have a voice in shaping their experiences within the hospital and beyond.”

I don’t know if the hospital where I first met my daughter directly worked with NIDCAP or deliberately employed its methods when she was there. But the fact that they did all they could to support my daughter’s birthparents’ presence with her, as well as our family’s efforts to bond with her while she was still in the NICU, affirms that they embraced NIDCAP’s primary aim of enabling intimate, nurturing connections between parents and premature and at-risk newborns. Without saying the exacts words of the title, their guidance and encouragement of our presence told us, “Being with you—all of you—is everything to this little one.”

The hospital also adhered to NIDCAP’s core principle of avoiding overstimulation, to enable sleep and avoid stress. I learned this lesson when I was told not to read black-and-white, high-contrast board books to this little one as I’d done with my older children as infants. “Too much stimulation will keep her from sleeping, and she needs to sleep to grow,” a nurse gently told me. “Just hold her and let her close her eyes.”

“I think not of how quickly time moves, but of how precious time with our children is, at every fleeting stage.”

Humbled, I put away the board books for later, thinking for the first time in my life that maybe there was such a thing as too much reading! But this interaction with the nurse showed me that even though I had already parented two infants, I had a lot to learn about caring for a vulnerable preemie.

Being With You Is Everything could be read aloud with babies once risk of overstimulation is at bay, and I imagine that parents will also read it alone, or perhaps silently while they rock their tiny, sleeping babies. They can write notes in the little journal section about their experiences, observations, and feelings. As they read or write, they will be affirmed of the vital role they play in their babies’ development, counteracting the common feeling that they are getting in the way of doctors, nurses, and life-supporting equipment, and easing the sense of helplessness and inadequacy that can emerge when faced with the needs and vulnerability of a premature or at-risk newborn.

When she finally tipped the scales at 4.5 lbs., we were allowed to bring my daughter home—in something called a “car bed” rather than a car seat so that she could lie down perfectly flat, which we were told was safer for her little body. A year and a half later, her adoption into our family was finalized, a day I mark with her each year to honor her birth family and the losses that premise adoption, and to share gratitude that we are family. And now, I am preparing to bring this youngest daughter of mine to her college orientation in late August. “How is this even possible?” I find myself thinking in anticipation of that day. “Wasn’t it just yesterday that I held her in the NICU?”

These questions are their own answer when I think not of how quickly time moves, but of how precious time with our children is, at every fleeting stage. I know this day is possible, in part, because of how my daughter was held in the NICU—by our family, by her birthparents, and by caring hospital staff and social workers. She received excellent care when she was at her smallest and most vulnerable, and she received an abundance of love, too. “Being with you is everything,” she told us when she gripped our fingers, eagerly took her bottles, and nestled into our chests to sleep and begin to grow into the remarkable person she is today.

I wish I’d had Buehler and Zeybekoglu’s book when my daughter was in the NICU, for the validation it could’ve provided and for its journal pages to act as a memento of those early days. What an honor it is to help bring this “little book with a big message” into the world. What a joy it is to know how it will be a part of many families’ lives for years to come.


To purchase Being With You Is Everything: Discovering Your Baby’s Voice by Deborah Buehler and illustrated by Annie Zeybekoglu, please visit our online shop, Memory Lane Books & Gifts.

Please contact Modern Memoirs, Inc. directly to discuss bulk at-cost purchases for hospitals and other institutions, or to find out how your bookstore or library can purchase wholesale copies.


Megan St. Marie is president of Modern Memoirs, Inc.

Your Company History, the Way You Want It

A blog post by Publishing Intern Lily Fitzgerald

In 2024 Modern Memoirs, Inc. celebrated our 30th anniversary—a milestone that prompted us to reflect on the many years we have helped celebrate and preserve people’s stories. Inspired, we decided to tell our own story by publishing Cheers to 30 Years: A Modern Memoirs Company History, which we plan to release later this year.


By sharing founders’ legacies, these volumes articulate organizational missions and values while inviting readers to reflect on history and envision the future.

This is not the first such book we’ve created, as the following partial list of similar titles reveals:

As several of the above titles demonstrate, many such books are published to commemorate a significant milestone for an organization by documenting its history, growth, and achievements, and by highlighting individuals who played key roles along the way. By sharing founders’ legacies, these volumes articulate organizational missions and values while inviting readers to reflect on history and envision the future.

While we go through the process of publishing Modern Memoirs’ company history, we want to encourage businesses, municipalities, clubs, boards, religious congregations, and other organizations to consider publishing a written history of their own. We are currently working on one such project, a biography of a businessman and his wife whose great-grandchildren commissioned Modern Memoirs to honor their ancestors and gather together scattered pieces of history about their thriving family business, which celebrates its 130th anniversary in 2026.

Whether you are marking a milestone in your organization, honoring a founder’s life and vision, or celebrating a retirement, we are here to help you create a special book about the place and people you hold dear.


Lily Fitzgerald is publishing intern for Modern Memoirs, Inc.

When in Rome, Find Time to Write!

A blog post by
Publishing Intern Lily Fitzgerald

Lily in a gondola along the Grand Canal in Venice, Italy


During my winter break from classes at UMass-Amherst, I had the amazing opportunity to go to Italy with a program led by my business school. For two weeks, thirty other students and I would travel to five cities to learn about international business and how different industries adapt to cultural challenges and globalization. I thought the trip would be both an educational experience and a vacation from my usual work, but my creative writing professor had other ideas. 

In addition to my business studies, I am currently working on a horror anthology as part of my honors thesis in Creative Writing. On the last day of class in the fall 2024 semester, my creative writing professor pulled me aside. He said he believed I would have a better start to the next semester if I had some writing ready to be workshopped by the first or second week of classes. He told me I should “not stop conversing with my characters” and advised me to focus on my writing throughout the break.

“My creative writing professor pulled me aside. He told me I should ‘not stop conversing with my characters’ and advised me to focus on my writing throughout the break.”

Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence, Italy

I agreed and took his advice seriously. I planned to dedicate an hour each day to writing throughout the break, including during my time in Italy. At first, my plan worked out well. I had little disruption to my life and slipped writing time in between spending time with family, celebrating Christmas, and catching up with friends. While packing my journal and pens into my backpack, I felt confident that I could keep up with my commitment to writing while traveling. 

I realized how naïve I was on the first day of my trip. Due to layovers and delays, it took over twelve hours to get to Italy. By the time I arrived in Rome, I hadn’t slept in over 48 hours and couldn’t even look at my journal. All I wanted was to lie down on my hotel bed and see the inside of my eyelids.

Crypt inside the Opera della Metropolitana in Siena, Italy

The next two days were no easier, as I was exhausted from the time change and from exploring Rome. After running around between historic sites, business meetings, and group dinners all day, I would go back to my hotel room and pass out in bed. In fact, I completely forgot about my writing commitment until I was repacking my bag to go to the next city on our itinerary, and I saw my journal at the bottom of my backpack. I was disappointed in myself. Realizing the fast pace I was keeping in Italy was not going to get easier, I made a plan to keep up with my writing. 

First, I adjusted my expectations. There was no way my schedule would allow me an uninterrupted hour every day to dedicate to writing, so I lowered my quota to at least twenty minutes a day. This made my daily writing goal less daunting on days when I was especially tired. 

Second, I looked for more opportunities to write instead of waiting until I was back in my hotel room at the end of the day. I took advantage of time while traveling between cities on the bus, and I also bowed out of some optional, touristy activities that weren’t of interest to me. These breaks gave me the chance to write in my hotel room and also benefitted my overall health and wellbeing during the trip. 

And third, I realized just how beneficial writing while traveling was to my craft. I found inspiration for setting descriptions and other elements of my stories in the gothic architecture of churches I visited, for example, and the many new experiences I had and sights I saw inspired me with writing ideas outside of my thesis. I returned to UMass for the spring semester with a completed short story that I was able to workshop with my class. Although my draft still needs some work, it was a good starting point for the semester.

Even though I did get off track with my writing goals at the start of my trip to Italy, the experience of reorienting myself ended up helping both my craft and my practice. The lesson I learned is: don’t get discouraged, and always find time to write. No matter where I am, I know that life will throw distractions and challenges my way, and learning how to adapt as I prioritize writing will only make me better at what I love.


Lily atop the panorama at the Siena Cathedral in Siena, Italy

Lily Fitzgerald is publishing intern for Modern Memoirs, Inc.

Meeting My Grandparents Through Family Stories

A Blog Post by
Publishing Intern Lily Fitzgerald


Publishing Intern Lily Fitzgerald’s maternal grandparents, George and Dolores Furtado, 1979

“They would have loved you.”

My mom and I were looking at photos of my maternal grandparents, George and Dolores Furtado, when she said these words to me, her voice soft and wistful. One snapshot was taken at my aunt’s wedding, showing my grandfather, tall and tanned in a grey suit, and my grandmother in a floor-length pink dress. My mom remarked on how fashionable my grandmother was and said, “She would have loved that you sew and would have taken you shopping for clothes all the time!” She also reminisced about my grandfather’s love of cooking and said he would have prepared my favorite foods, like lobster and shrimp. “I wish you’d had the chance to meet them,” my mother said.


“They would have loved you.”


Both of my maternal grandparents died before I was born, and my grandmother didn’t live long enough to meet any of her grandchildren. She passed away in 1987 at the age of 57 from pancreatic cancer, and my grandfather died in 1993 at the age of 63 from prostate cancer. Their children miss them every day, and, in a different way, those in my generation who never met them miss them, too. With no grandparents to spoil us grandchildren, or to tell stories of the past, my sister, cousins, and I grew up with a sense of loss. But no matter how empty the spot at the head of the family may have seemed when I was growing up, my mother and her siblings helped fill the void with memories and stories that brought my grandparents nearer to us all.

My grandfather was born George Furtado in 1929 and was raised on the island of São Miguel in the Azores. His family were rabbit farmers, and he came to the United States at fifteen after his father passed away. Settling in Somerville, Massachusetts, he began working as a barber and training to be a carpenter. My grandmother was born Dolores Cravo in 1930 and was raised one town over from Somerville in Cambridge. She was the daughter of two Portuguese immigrants and grew up surrounded by the Portuguese community there. She went to technical school for design and then worked with a fashion designer in Boston, where she would plan outfits and help models get ready for fashion shows.

George and Dolores met while my grandfather was playing soccer with his friends. My grandmother and her friends were walking in the area and decided to watch the match. Family lore has it that when their eyes met it was love at first sight. They started dating, and then they got married in 1952.

My grandmother planned to continue working for the designer after getting married. Then she got pregnant within the first year of marriage, and my grandfather was drafted to serve in the Korean War. Due to his absence, my grandmother had to stay home with their first son as she waited for the day her husband would return.

George Furtado during his service in the Korean War, c. 1953

My grandfather’s army service in Korea was anything but easy. He rose in the ranks to become a sergeant and was in charge of tanks, but my family never knew much about his experiences until after he died and an uncle told them the truth at his wake. They learned that his team was captured by the enemy and held in a prisoner-of-war camp. We believe he was the only member of his squad to survive, but he never talked about his time in Korea due to what would now be called PTSD. However, he was awarded many medals for his service and was proud that he served our country.

After the war, my grandfather returned home to his wife and child and bought a three-family home in Somerville. While he worked, my grandmother stayed home with their growing family, which would eventually include six children. They sometimes struggled with money, but they always managed to scrape by, providing their children with a safe and happy life. They worked hard and found comfort and hope in their Catholic faith.


“…memories can change the way we see the world and help us understand those around us and those who came before us.”


Beyond their religion, my grandparents also found joy in the little things in life. My grandfather loved to prepare food, and especially seafood. He went fishing in Gloucester, he ate tinned sardines, and he tried to entice his children to eat escargot and clams. One of his favorite meals was a Christmas Eve dish called the Seven Fishes, which he prepared with shrimp, lobsters, crabs, tuna, clams, quahogs, and octopus. He also grew grapes in the backyard to make his own wine in the basement. Apparently, it was sometimes a bit too strong, and after sharing it with friends, they would stagger home. For her part, although my grandmother no longer worked in design after getting married, she never gave up her love of clothes and fashion. She always made sure that her children were dressed well and looked good, spending time sewing and shopping. Then, after her children grew up, she got a job as a nurse’s aide at Mount Auburn Hospital. There she worked in the labor and delivery unit, finding joy in caring for newborn babies and their mothers.

Although they left this world much too soon, my grandparents live on in family stories, proving that memories can change the way we see the world and help us understand those around us and those who came before us. The vivid memories my mom, aunts, and uncles have shared give me a clear picture of the loving, creative, and hardworking people their parents were. So now when I recall my mother saying, “I wish you’d had a chance to meet them,” I can say with thanks that in some ways, I feel as though I have.


Lily Fitzgerald is publishing intern for Modern Memoirs, Inc.

A Window into Modern Memoirs History

Time-Lapse Video and Introduction
by Publishing Intern Lily Fitzgerald

In celebration of Modern Memoirs, Inc.'s 30th anniversary, we are proud to share a window display hosted for the month of October 2024 by the Amherst Area Chamber of Commerce (AACC) at 35 S. Pleasant Street in Amherst, Massachusetts. The display was created by Book Designer Nicole Miller, featuring books we have published over the past three decades by clients from across the country and around the world. Click below to view a time-lapse video showing the set-up process.

We hope that many locals and visitors to downtown Amherst have enjoyed an in-person peek into the work we love to do, and we thank the AACC for its support of our business. Peruse our website, come visit us at the Modern Memoirs offices at 417 West Street, Suite 104, Amherst, Massachusetts, or call us today at 413-253-2353 for more information about our full range of publishing services.

Window display hosted by the Amherst Area Chamber of Commerce and created by Book Designer Nicole Miller in honor of Modern Memoirs’ 30th anniversary, October 2024