Grief doesn’t play by any rules—it sneaks in, even when you think you’re managing fine. One small moment, like a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich gone wrong, can unravel everything, but Kingston’s quiet reminders are always there, guiding me to be kind to myself in the mess.
Monday Morning Massacre: Grief, Chaos, and One Sticky Victim Read More »
After the loss of Kingston, the world moved on, but our grief hasn’t. We’re still here, trying to survive the aftermath, and while life goes on for others, our need for support has only grown. Kingston’s story didn’t end with his passing, and neither did ours.
The Weight of Support Read More »
I think back to the day Zuma told me we were keeping it. The glass pear had been sitting there
A Glass Pear: Heavy with Meaning Read More »
Part Two And yet, despite all of that—my insomnia, the anxiety, the grief clogging up every corner of my mind—there
The Space Between Us: Love Reunited Read More »
Part 2 I hadn’t heard the man enter the apartment or the door close behind him yet there he was.
An Open Door: What Darkness Knew Read More »
Part Two The sound of the double doors creaking open snapped me back to attention. I saw the paramedics wheeling
Love Interrupted: The Highway of Hope Read More »
When people ask me what my end goal is with sharing these stories, the simplest answer is this: I want
Grief isn’t a checklist. It isn’t a timeline, and it’s certainly not something anyone else gets to dictate. Losing a
I woke up today in unbearable agony, the kind that feels like it’s clawing through every inch of my body.
As I waited outside the hospital, clutching Kingston’s stuffed octopus, I felt the absurdity of being labeled a “domestic terrorist”—all for protecting my son. But in that moment, with the doors opening and his gurney approaching, my focus narrowed to one thought: Kingston was coming back to me, and I needed to be ready.
Love Interrupted: The Hospital’s Hostage Read More »