February 2026

To the one who thought you’d be stronger by now — this is for you. This past week held both tender tears and quiet celebration. The tender tears came as I walked through another anniversary of the day my sweet Melanie ran ahead to Heaven. And while time has moved forward, love has not diminished. Grief still whispers her name in the ordinary moments. And scars still speak. But the week was also marked in quiet celebration of the release of my new book, When Scars Become Sto

Six years ago today, my world changed in ways I never could have imagined. It was the day my sweet Melanie ran ahead to Heaven. And even now, six years later, I miss her as much today as I did the first moment I realized she no longer breathed the air on this earth. Time has not softened that truth. Love does not diminish simply because days turn into years. There are still moments when I long to hear her voice, to see her smile, to watch her move through the world in the w

Feeling left behind after loss is one of the quiet pains many grievers don’t expect. In the early days, support often surrounds us—texts arrive, meals are delivered, and our sorrow is acknowledged. But as time passes, life resumes for others. Conversations shift. Invitations slow. And while the world seems to move forward, we may find ourselves standing still, wondering why our hearts haven’t caught up. You may notice fewer check-ins or sense that people assume you're “doing

Have you found yourself asking, Who am I after loss? When grief changes everything it’s a question many of us find ourselves asking when we thought we knew about ourselves. Loss has a way of quietly rewriting our identity, leaving us wondering whether the person we once were still exists beneath the weight of sorrow.