The 411

The Dead Ringer grew from an unfulfilled promise to my mom.

In one of our last conversations in her hospital room, I teased my mom about her outdated LG Verizon flip phone and its tiny, pixelated screen struggling to display photos of her grandchildren. I promised her I'd take her to the Apple Store for a new iPhone as soon as she was discharged. She laughed and reluctantly said, "Deal."

She died three weeks later.

Since then, I’ve gone through four generations of iPhones—while Apple has introduced at least twice as many. I never trade in my old phones; instead, I keep each one tucked away in its box, as if to honor my promise to my Mom.

I created The Dead Ringer to offer a new, yet familiar way for those of us who grieve to stay close to the ones we’ve lost. Death may end a life, but it doesn’t end the connections we form with each other. Over the past nine years, my relationship with my mom has continued to grow and evolve in unexpected ways.

Through The Dead Ringer, I invite you to keep the conversations going with those you have lost.