Janice Dean

Last night, I made a simple request on X. I asked if anybody visiting Arlington National Cemetery for Memorial Day would stop by Alan’s grave and leave a photo for our family. What happened next honestly caught me off guard. By this afternoon, dozens of Americans from all walks of life had made the walk to Section 60 to visit SSG Alan W. Shaw. Veterans. Families. Complete strangers. People who had never met Alan, but chose to honor him anyway. For one day on social media, people put aside the constant noise and negativity and came together for something bigger than themselves. My notifications filled with photos, kind messages, prayers, and stories from people honoring not just Alan, but so many of our fallen heroes. I don’t think people fully understand what moments like this mean to Gold Star families. The fear is never just losing them. It’s losing them slowly over time as the world moves on and fewer people remember their name. But today showed me that Alan will never be forgotten. After years of watching social media reward some of the worst parts of humanity, today gave me a reminder that the good is still out there too. Thank you to every single person who stopped by to visit Alan today, said his name, shared his story, or took a moment to honor the fallen. This right here is the America Alan knew and loved enough to fight and die for. And today, y’all showed us all that it’s still here and it’s still worth fighting for. 🇺🇸

When I made this post, I truly believed it was a long shot. Living in Arkansas, we’re not always able to make the trip to Arlington National Cemetery every Memorial Day, and there’s always a little guilt that comes with that. But seeing complete strangers offer to visit Alan, leave flowers, take photos, and say his name when we can’t be there ourselves has honestly overwhelmed me in the best way possible. This comment section restored a little piece of my faith in humanity today. I’ve always been proud to be an American, but tonight I’m even prouder knowing there are still so many people who refuse to let our fallen be forgotten. 🇺🇸

It was an honor to visit your husband’s grave today on your behalf, and to pay my respects. It was wonderful to see the beautiful flowers representing many others who did the same. Our nation owes a debt of gratitude to those who made the ultimate sacrifice, and to the loved ones they left behind. Thank you for your service and sacrifice @SharrellAnne2 🙏🏽

@SharrellAnne2 God bless you @SharrellAnne2. Thinking of you and praying for your family.

This is probably a long shot, but if anybody happens to be in DC this weekend and plans on visiting Arlington, I would love to see a fresh photo of my husband’s grave in Section 60. SSG Alan W. Shaw Section 60, Grave 8451 B Co 1/12 Cav, 1st Cavalry Division November 10, 1975 - February 9, 2007 There’s just something about knowing people still stop by, still say his name, still remember. 🇺🇸⭐🇺🇸

Today is our nations Memorial Day. Enjoy your day and take a moment to remember the true meaning of this day. A day to pay our respects to all those who have given their lives in our country's defense. God bless these brave heroes and their families.

🚨 The real masterminds and backstage geniuses behind the rose petals falling from the Pantheon’s oculus on Pentecost Sunday? The Rome firefighters! Italy at its finest 🇮🇹🔥

@brentthomas11 Thank you. 🙏🏻

@JaniceDean I understand for sure. I’m cheering for you ❤️

If you need a “feel good” show that makes you laugh out loud and sometimes cry a bit, then watch #Rooster. It took me a few episodes to get into it, but then I was hooked and it was wonderful.

@JosieWaffles It does. I didn’t like the first episode either. The burning down the house was ridiculous. Give it a couple more.

@JaniceDean I gave up after 1st. Does it really get better?

@brentthomas11 I just needed something that made me happy and it fit the bill perfectly!

@JaniceDean Carrell is excellent and the writing superb. It’s not a cookie cutter comedy. 🎭 we are loving it

@longislpatriot Yes I liked it too!

@JaniceDean Watch The Madison on Paramount. Fantastic !

This will touch your heart. Worth your time. ❤️

@SeanTrende This is beautiful and a wonderful, heartfelt read. Thank you for sharing. It touched my heart. ❤️

I almost hesitate to promote this, because it wasn't really intended to be a piece. I just sort of sat down and it came out. Maybe someone else out there has the same type of day today, and it'll speak to them. realclearpolitics.com/articles/2026/…

Kyle and I had a really challenging existence for many years. But we luckily took the time to figure out our differences and that was something he instigated with a conversation in his bus around how we each managed our racing teams. I was super eager for us to get on better terms. But it was he who made the effort for that to be possible. We did some media together also to laugh through some of the things we put each other through many years ago. Most recently we had even been discussing him running my Late Model at Wilkesboro this summer. He seemed extremely happy and we had planned to meet up next Thursday to get his seat to the shop. He laughed over the idea of his fans and JRM fans having to cheer in unison during that race. Kyle was one of the greatest drivers in NASCAR history. No one can deny that. But he was also a father, a husband, brother, son, and a friend to many. My heart is broken for the Busch family. I will never be able to make sense of this loss but I am thankful that we had found a way to become friends.

Love this lady and her beautiful dresses! #HollyShae hollyshae.com 💕

In lieu of flowers: My sister is running the marathon for Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center where I was treated last year — a cause selected before we ever had even a hint of a thought that our family would lose our seemingly healthy dad to something completely different less than 14 months later. The link is here: Mskcc.convio.net/goto/JuliaTimpf

I do appreciate condolences, but better than that, I would like you to do something kind for someone you know. Maybe someone you haven’t reached out to for a while, who may have gone through something difficult a long time ago that everyone has now moved on from. I am no stranger to Trauma Road, after all, and I know that’s how it goes… people rushing to do anything for you at the beginning, and then slowly fading away, until you are ultimately left with your unbearable loss alone. I know it will happen to me, too: The world will move on from this, even as I do not. This is a universal experience for anyone who goes through tragedy, and it is up to us to change that.   If I could make one wish, I would bring my dad back. I know it’s not possible, because I have spent days trying. So instead, I would like to wish that we can all remember that every person we are talking to carries wounds and treat one another with humanity, regardless of our differences. My father always did that. He was a man of faith and strong values who did not have time to judge others, as he was far too busy living his life as the example of what a good man should be.   While I have everyone’s ear, I am begging for us all to do our best to follow my father’s example. I need to see more kindness. Not just for me, as, although I am suffering immensely, I know I am not the only one suffering. Suffering is happening all over the world, every single one of us is dealing with something, and yet we act otherwise. Remember that the person you speak to is a human just like you are; that most of us want the same things such as happiness, love, and the best for our families and friends, and that most of our disagreements come from simply a difference of opinion in how to get there.   Go be nice to someone. Go have the conversations I wish I could have with my father. Go do something good, go say something kind -- because I can absolutely promise you, there is no limit to how cruel the world can be on its own.   I’ll see everyone soon.   Kat   P.S. Less than a week before my dad died, I had to put Cheens down.

@KatTimpf I love you and I am so so sorry for your loss. I know how special your dad was to you. I don’t even know what to say except I’m here for you.

My seemingly healthy, strong father Daniel “Dad Timpf” Timpf died very unexpectedly on the evening of May 7 at just 69 years old.   It does not seem like enough to simply call him my father, because he was so much more than that. He was my rock, my hero and my best friend. He was loyal, funny, kind, selfless, hard-working, and so devoted to his children that it was impossible to be near him and not find yourself inspired. He was a writer, a painter, a sailor, and somehow knowledgeable on every subject from world history to literature to accounting. He was the most dependable person anyone has ever met. I always felt like, as long as I had his phone number, there was not a problem I could not solve. I needed him here with me; I am not okay, and I am far from the only person who feels this.   The birth of my son in February 2025, his first grandchild, was supposed to be a happy new beginning for our family. A family that had been already once devastated by an untimely loss: the loss of my mother Anne Marie to a rare disease in 2014 just a matter of weeks after her diagnosis.   The joy of my son’s birth was, of course, complicated by my also very unexpected breast cancer diagnosis just a matter of hours before going into labor with him. During this time, my dad did what he did best, which was to save the day. As soon as he heard about my diagnosis, he simply got into the car and started driving to New York -- making it through the tunnel just as my  son was born…on the day that happened to be his own birthday, as well.   In the tumultuous time of a simultaneous new cancer diagnosis and new baby, my dad was the sole reason for our stability, rushing in to help care for our son, and returning to do so again for my double mastectomy, reconstructive surgery, and any time that we ever needed him. It was an awful, awful year… but I found so much joy and hope throughout it by watching the beauty of a very special relationship form between my son and my father. This horrible thing that was happening was creating such a very special bond between the two of them -- almost making the terrible thing worth it -- and I was so excited to see how that bond would grow.   The bond was of top priority for my father, who visited from Michigan often. I saw him last on the Monday before he died, and my son was so proud to help his grandfather push his suitcase down to the car as he left. The goodbyes were quick. Why wouldn’t they be? We would all see each other again at the beginning of June, when we would all head to Texas for my shows and to see my grandpa. We wanted to make sure that my son could spend as much time as he could with his great-grandfather. He is, after all, 93.   I was certainly not over the trauma of my cancer or having to amputate the breasts I so badly wanted to feed my son with, but the one thing I could always count on to get me through my worst moments was seeing my son’s and my father’s faces light up when they saw each other, be it during the visits or our routine morning and bedtime FaceTime calls.   That is, at least, until I had to hear over the phone from a doctor I had never met in an emergency room in the same town up north that I’d previously announced to my father that I was pregnant that my dad was dead; I would never see him again, and neither would my son. It would turn out that last year was not the hard one, after all. Rather, it was the one I would now do anything to relive. I would amputate my breasts every year just to be able to speak with him one more time, even for five minutes.   I am currently living an unimaginable horror. For many people, this is a tragic story. For me, it’s my life. I do not know how I will recover from it. I only know that I have to for the sake of what is left of my family.

@ShannonBream Key word…YET! 🤣

Happy birthday to my ride-or-die @JaniceDean - lots of adventures and still no jail time … yet!