It started as a simple hobby. Rory Feek just wanted to document life on a farm in Tennessee with his wife, Joey. He didn't know he was writing a digital eulogy that would eventually capture the hearts of millions. Honestly, This Life I Live blog isn't your typical lifestyle site. It’s a raw, bleeding-heart archive of a love story interrupted by the cruelest of circumstances.
Most people found the blog in 2014. That was the year Joey was diagnosed with cervical cancer. Suddenly, the posts about gardening and songwriting shifted. They became dispatches from the front lines of a battle that Rory—and all of us watching—hoped they would win. But they didn't. Joey passed away in 2016.
What's fascinating is how the blog survived. Usually, when a central figure passes, the content dries up or turns into a stale tribute page. Rory didn't do that. He kept writing. He wrote through the grief, through raising their daughter Indiana—who has Down syndrome—and through the weird, quiet process of finding a "new normal" in a farmhouse that felt way too big without her.
Why People Still Obsess Over This Life I Live Blog
You’ve probably seen the headlines over the years. Some are clickbaity; others are genuinely moving. But why does a blog started over a decade ago still pull such massive traffic?
It's the vulnerability.
In an era of Instagram filters and "curated" lives, Rory’s writing felt like a punch to the gut. He didn't hide the ugly parts of caregiving. He talked about the morphine, the hospice bed in the middle of the living room, and the terrifying realization that he was going to be a single father. He didn't use a ghostwriter. You can tell because the rhythm is quirky—sometimes he spends five paragraphs talking about a specific tree on their property before getting to the "point."
That’s the secret sauce.
Digital marketing experts call it "authenticity," but that word feels too sterile here. It's more like a long-form letter to a friend. People don't visit This Life I Live blog to see what's trending in Nashville; they go there to feel less alone in their own struggles.
✨ Don't miss: Melania Trump Wedding Photos: What Most People Get Wrong
The Evolution of the Content
The blog has three distinct "eras" if you look closely:
- The Golden Years: Before the diagnosis. It was all about the duo Joey + Rory, their music, and the simple joys of homesteading. These posts are nostalgic now, almost painful to read knowing what's coming.
- The Valley: The cancer years. This is where the blog became a global phenomenon. Rory’s post "brave" remains one of the most shared pieces of personal blogging in history. It wasn't just news; it was a communal prayer.
- The Reconstruction: This is what Rory is doing now. He’s navigating life as a widower, a filmmaker, and a teacher. He opened a school on his property (Hardison Mill School) because he wanted Indiana to have a specific kind of education.
The Reality of Joey’s Final Days
There’s a misconception that the blog glorified the struggle. I don't see it that way. If you actually sit down and read the archives from late 2015, it’s heavy.
Joey was a powerhouse. She was one half of a successful country duo, a finalist on Can You Duet, and a Grammy nominee. Seeing her transition from a vibrant performer to someone who could barely whisper was devastating for the community that followed them. Rory documented the "Manfred" (a nickname for her IV pole) and the small victories, like Joey being able to sit up and play with Indy for twenty minutes.
It wasn't pretty. It was real.
And that’s why it worked for SEO, even if Rory wasn't trying to "rank." Google loves "Helpful Content." What’s more helpful than a first-hand account of navigating terminal illness with faith and grace? He unknowingly hit every E-E-A-T (Experience, Expertise, Authoritativeness, Trustworthiness) signal in the book just by being honest.
What Most People Get Wrong About Rory Feek
Some critics have claimed he "monetized" his wife's death. That's a cynical take that doesn't hold up when you actually look at the timeline.
Rory was a songwriter first. He wrote "Some Beach" for Blake Shelton. He was already successful. The blog was an extension of his storytelling. If anything, the blog became a burden at times—imagine having a million people waiting for an update when you're just trying to process your wife’s last breath.
🔗 Read more: Erika Kirk Married Before: What Really Happened With the Rumors
He used the platform to fund things Joey cared about. The school, the farm, the preservation of their music. He’s kept her memory alive not as a brand, but as a legacy for their daughter.
Managing a Legacy in the Digital Age
Living in the public eye is hard. Living in the public eye after a tragedy is a minefield.
Rory has faced his share of family drama, which he has also—for better or worse—addressed on the blog. His relationships with his older daughters have been strained at times. He doesn't skip the hard parts. This transparency is rare in the "celeb" world. Usually, PR teams scrub the messy bits. On This Life I Live blog, the mess is the message.
Practical Lessons from the Feek Story
If you’re a blogger, a storyteller, or just someone going through a hard time, there’s a lot to learn from how this site is managed.
- Vulnerability Is a Superpower. People can smell fake "inspiration" a mile away. Rory succeeded because he admitted when he was terrified.
- Visuals Matter. The photography on the site is cinematic. Rory is a filmmaker by trade, and it shows. High-quality images of real life (not stock photos) keep people on the page.
- Community Over Content. He doesn't just "post." He engages. The comments section of that blog is a support group.
The Role of Faith
You can’t talk about this blog without talking about their faith. They are devout Christians. For some, that’s the draw. For others, it’s a hurdle. Regardless of where you stand, the blog provides a case study in how belief systems function under extreme pressure. It wasn't a "believe and you'll be healed" kind of narrative. It was a "believe and you'll endure" story.
Technical Impact: Why It Still Ranks
From a purely technical standpoint, the blog is a beast. It has thousands of high-quality backlinks from major news outlets like NBC, ABC, and People Magazine.
When Rory writes a new post, it’s almost guaranteed to hit Google Discover because of his high "Authority" score. He’s not chasing keywords like "how to deal with grief." He’s writing about his life, and the keywords are naturally occurring. This is what SEO looks like when it’s done right—it doesn't look like SEO at all.
💡 You might also like: Bobbie Gentry Today Photo: Why You Won't Find One (And Why That Matters)
Key Takeaways for Navigating Grief or Blogging
- Document the mundane. Some of Rory’s most-read posts are about planting seeds or a quiet morning with coffee.
- Don’t be afraid of the "Long Form." Most "experts" say people have short attention spans. This blog proves that if the story is compelling, people will read 2,000 words.
- Consistency is key. Even years after Joey's death, Rory updates the site. He didn't let the story end at the cemetery.
Moving Forward with This Life I Live
What’s next? Indiana is growing up. She’s the star of the blog now. Seeing her thrive—learning to read, playing on the farm, attending the school her dad built—is the "happily ever after" that Joey wanted for her.
Rory has also returned to music and performing at their "Grey Barn" on the property. He’s found a way to bridge the gap between his life with Joey and his life after her. It’s a delicate balance.
Next Steps for Readers:
If you’re looking to dive into the archives, start with the year 2014. It provides the necessary context for everything that follows. For those who are currently grieving, look for the "category" sections on the blog specifically dealing with loss—Rory has curated some of his most reflective pieces there.
If you're a content creator, study his pacing. Notice how he uses whitespace. Notice how he lets the photos tell half the story. It's a masterclass in human-centric digital storytelling.
Ultimately, the blog is a reminder that stories don't have to be perfect to be important. They just have to be true. And in a world of AI-generated noise, that truth is why we keep clicking back.