When pediatrician mom of three, Marcy Larson's 14 yo son, Andy, was killed in a car accident in 2018, she felt like her life was over. In many ways, that life was over, and a new one forced to begin in its place. Come alongside her as she works through this journey of healing. She discusses grief and child loss with other grieving parents and those who work to help them in their grief. This podcast is for grieving parents and well as those who support them.
Kayla called her God's baby from the very beginning. She had been through six or seven miscarriages before Ellie arrived, and from the moment Ellie was born eight weeks early with a heart condition so severe the doctors were not sure she would make it, Kayla understood something in her bones: this child may not be hers to keep. She was only hers to love. And love her she did. For 574 days in the…
There are many terms I have heard when talking about the anniversary of your child's death - Heaven Day. Angelversary. Going Home Day. But today, Gwen gave us a new one that she found in the book, Rare Bird - Crappiversary. It made us laugh. And then it made us cry. Because it is exactly right. Some days deserve to be named accurately. Some days do not need to be dressed up or softened or reframed…
Jackie knew it was coming. That is one of the hardest things about this kind of grief. For years, she had watched her son Sebastian struggle with mental health and addiction, and there came a point, as she puts it, where it was no longer an if but a when. She braced herself. She prepared. She thought maybe that would soften the blow. It did not. Sebastian was Jackie's firstborn, a towheaded,…
Payton loved rainbows. She knew all the colors, knew them in order, and would paint them perfectly every time. But she always added a pink line at the bottom, because she simply could not understand why pink was not already there. Every single rainbow she ever painted had that extra pink line. The Friday before she died, she painted one more. It was still drying on the easel at her Christian…
There is a line from Samuel Beckett that a friend whispered to Stephen outside the hospital room where his wife Kate was dying. I can't go on. I'll go on. It became, as Stephen says in his memoir, a pretty accurate summary of his life after Kate and Anna. Anna came home from China at seven months old, a charming, sweet, luminously happy little girl who had a gift for drawing people to her.…
Bryan carried the sadness. That was his decision. Not the devastation, not the incapacitation, but the sadness. A conscious, daily choice to let his broken heart stay open rather than rebuild the walls around it. And in doing so, he discovered something he did not expect. The broken heart made him better. Noah was Bryan's son, born in 1987, a boy of rare and tender empathy who greeted his father…
This week's episode didn't happen the way we planned. It was supposed to be a livestream. And then, within the same week, both Gwen and I found ourselves facing something neither of us expected. My mother-in-law, who had been like a mother to me for nearly 30 years, was suddenly placed on hospice. Gwen's own mother was in hospice as well. We looked at each other and simply said, we cannot do a…
We are all born into a house of stories. That is something Dan, Jacob's dad, believes deeply, and it shapes everything about how he has carried his grief. Dan is a professional storyteller by trade, and when his son Jacob was born fragile and uncertain in the NICU, not expected to survive, Dan did the only thing he knew how to do. He sat by his side and talked. He told stories, sang songs, even…
There is a fear that lives quietly inside almost every grieving parent. It rarely gets said out loud, but it shapes so much of how we carry our grief. If I let go of the pain, will I lose them too? Caryn, Josh's mom, spent years living inside that fear before she finally understood something that changed everything for her. Josh was Caryn's oldest son, a champion wrestler who came within reach of…
After losing Isaiah, Mona did what so many grieving parents do. She disappeared. Not all at once. But slowly, quietly, she started skipping the family gatherings where she would feel his absence most sharply, surrounded by all his cousins growing up without him. She got good at wearing a mask, at being on for other people, at performing a version of herself that did not make anyone uncomfortable.…