Six years ago, my 24-year-old daughter, Garnet, died unexpectedly. That loss reshaped my life in ways I never could have imagined, and these years since have been the hardest I’ll ever know. I set up this blog as a space to share, vent, cry, and, if possible, laugh a little along the way. I’ll tell more of our story over time, but tonight—with the page finally open and it late—I wanted to begin.
One of the greatest barriers to moving forward, at least for me, has been learning how to get out of my own way. It’s taken a year of hard work—pulling myself up, starting and stopping, and letting go of the person I was before Garnet died. Sometimes I don’t recognize that old self, and like so much else in this experience, I’ve learned that’s okay.
I’ve tried writing about all of this many times, in Word, Scrivener, and now Atticus—collecting fragments into something I hope will matter to other moms and dads facing the same road. There’s no guide for losing a child. Can you imagine one? It would sit right next to ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting,’ but instead, we’re left to navigate deep, complicated grief—often so privately that it becomes isolating.
For me, the longing for community has been persistent. I’ve searched for a secular, human-centered space that understands this journey, but haven’t found it. So, I’m hoping to build something here, connecting with parents who walk this same difficult path. Maybe, together, we can ease the isolation for a while.
Along the way, I’ll be adding occasional reflections, practical insights, and inviting others to share their stories. Above all, this is a no judgment zone—only respect and kindness here, always. More to come.
