Tri-City Crematory - Funeral Home

04/29/2026

04/28/2026

04/22/2026

04/22/2026

NEVER tell a funeral home how much your life insurance is.

Pick your services first.
Get the price.
Then decide how to pay.

Don’t let decisions be based on the policy amount.

It’s private.

Have you ever been asked this during arrangements?

Tri-City Crematory Funeral Home
Family owned & operated • We come to you (75-mile radius)
One Service ~ One Price ~ No Sales Pitch
📞 870-564-2000

04/22/2026

We come to you within 75 miles. One service, one price, no sales pitch ✅

04/18/2026

Do you pray for protection when you travel?

We do. Every single time.

My momma is the one who taught us to always pray when we get in a vehicle. Before we ever pull out, we ask God to cover us and our vehicle with the blood of Jesus. We ask Him to place His guardian angels around us — in front of us, behind us, beside us, above us, and below us — to lead us, guide us, and protect us, and to bring us safely to our destination and back home again.

Today, that prayer became more real than ever before.

We were pulling out of a driveway with a blind curve when suddenly a semi came flying toward us at a high rate of speed. There was no way he could stop. None. In that moment, everything felt like slow motion. I screamed. The truck stalled. Kyle was trying to figure out what had happened because it was like the truck just died. We were sitting there, blocking the lane, and the semi had nowhere to go.

And yet… here we are.

Shaken.
Humbled.
Grateful.
Still trying to process what could have been.

There is no doubt in my mind that God spared us. There is no other explanation. Had the Lord not covered us and had His angels not been surrounding that truck, neither one of us would be here right now.

Sometimes people say, “I don’t know how that happened.”
But sometimes, deep down, you do know.

And today, I know.

It was God.

Have you ever experienced a moment in your life that you knew without a doubt was God’s protection? I would love to hear your story or your thoughts.

04/15/2026

Nobody tells you that grief lives in your body.

They talk about sadness. About missing someone. About the emotional weight. But nobody tells you what it actually feels like. The physical sensation of carrying loss around inside you every single day.

It feels like drowning on dry land. Like there's a weight sitting on your chest that never lifts. You're breathing, technically, but it doesn't feel like enough air is getting in.

It feels like your body forgot how to work right. You're exhausted all the time—bone-deep, soul-crushing exhaustion—but you can't sleep. Or you sleep too much and wake up more tired than when you went to bed.

Your body can't figure out what it needs because what it needs is them back, and that's not happening.

Some days your heart physically hurts. Not metaphorically. Actually hurts. Like someone reached into your chest and squeezed it. You wonder if you're having a heart attack. You're not. It's just grief living in the space where they used to be.

Your stomach is a disaster. You're either starving or nauseous. Food tastes like nothing or makes you want to throw up. You forget to eat for an entire day and then eat everything in sight at midnight.

Your body doesn't know what to do with itself anymore.

And the panic attacks. The ones that hit out of nowhere. Your heart racing. Your hands shaking. Your breath catching in your throat like you're choking on air. You're standing in the grocery store or sitting at your desk or driving down the highway and suddenly your body is screaming that something is wrong—which it is, they're dead, but your nervous system acts like it just figured that out five seconds ago.

Everything aches. Your shoulders. Your neck. Your jaw from clenching your teeth in your sleep.

Your head from crying or not crying or crying so much you can't cry anymore. Your whole body is just tired of holding this.

And people don't see it.

They see you standing there. Functioning. Going through the motions. They think you're okay because you're upright.
Because you showed up. Because you're not actively sobbing in front of them.

But inside? Inside you're fighting just to keep your body from collapsing.

You're using every ounce of energy you have just to stay standing.
To keep breathing.
To not fall apart in the middle of wherever you are because your body feels like it's being held together with tape.

Grief doesn't just live in your head. It moves into your bones. It takes up space in your lungs. It sits heavy in your gut and makes your hands shake and steals your sleep and hijacks your nervous system.

And nobody tells you that. Nobody warns you that losing someone doesn't just break your heart—it breaks your whole damn body.

You're not imagining it.
You're not being dramatic.
Your body is trying to process a loss it was never designed to handle.
And it's doing the best it can.
Which some days means barely holding together.

That’s what grief actually feels like. Heavy. Exhausting. Physical.
And some days, just keeping your body going is all you can do.

Written by: Aimee Suyko - In Their Footsteps

04/15/2026

Closeness and reliability are not the same thing. Grief proved that.