Brien Link died early on a February morning as a blizzard howled outside.
"He let go little by little and it was a peaceful death," said Milissa Link, his wife of 25 years.
She was by his side when Link, 59, exhaled for the last time. He was resting on a futon in their Minneapolis living room, where he'd received hospice care.
Instead of calling a funeral director, she tenderly washed his body, then dressed him in his favorite jeans and Irish sweater. As day turned into evening and the snow piled up, friends and neighbors arrived to pay their last respects.
With the body nearby, the group shared a meal, followed by toasts with Irish whiskey. There were stories and tears — and a unique kind of tribute.
"Brien loved his wool socks, and spontaneously everyone went into his dresser drawer and took a pair," Link said. "That would have delighted him. It was very informal, very humble."
Almost 24 hours after the death, Link finally was ready for a funeral director to carry her husband out of their home for the last time.
"I knew he wanted a ritual at home," she said. "It was a real solace to me to be able to fulfill his wishes."