06/20/2026
Years have passed.
Years of missing him.
Years of carrying love that had nowhere to go but into raising their babies.
Years of learning that grief doesn’t get smaller—you just learn to make room for it alongside joy.
I see Brian in these kids. In their smiles, their expressions, their mannerisms, the way they laugh. Pieces of him are woven through each of them, and his love still echoes in this family.
And then there’s her.
The woman behind it all.
The one with the infectious laugh, the quick wit, the biggest heart, and the kind of kindness that shows up for people again and again. She’ll joke about herself before anyone else can. She’ll downplay all that she carries. But from where I’m standing, she is simply beautiful.
Not because of what she’s endured.
Not because she’s “so strong.”
Not because she’s doing something unimaginable.
She’s beautiful because she has somehow made space for both grief and joy. Because she still laughs the most infectious laugh. Because she still loves deeply. Because she keeps choosing to live fully while carrying someone she misses every single day.
When she asked for a single photo of herself for the first time, I hoped she would see what I see.
A woman who is deeply loved.
A mother raising incredible humans.
A heart that still beats with joy and sorrow, side by side.
A life that, while forever changed, is still full of beauty.
And maybe that’s what I see most when I look at you Terri, a woman who has learned to carry love and loss, grief and joy, in the very same hands—and somehow still leaves room for laughter. 🤎
I love you!