04/12/2026
Featuring Jamie
Trauma and grief have been part of my entire adult life. I was barely 22 years old when I got a phone call that my dad — the man who had saved me from my violent childhood — had been killed in a car accident. My world turned upside down. But I had two babies who needed their mom, so somehow, I found a way forward. Ten years later, my world shifted again in ways I never knew were possible. I received another call about another accident. This time it was my niece and my daughter. We held bedside vigil, begging the universe to let them stay, but days later we were saying goodbye as they both became organ donors, saving the lives of others. I thought I knew grief before that. But nothing can ever prepare you for that kind of loss. Telling her 13-year-old brother and hearing the guttural cry escape from his throat will forever be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I could have chosen to stop living. There have been many days I wanted to. Instead, I leaned into the belief that the best way to honor my dad, my niece, and my daughter was to live the fullest life I could. I became an advocate for organ donation to honor their gifts. I showed up for friends and family in their own moments of grief and loss. I watched my son grow into an incredible man, and together we try to live a life filled with both macro and micro joys. Three years ago, my best friend of more than 20 years lost her battle with cancer. Once again I found myself asking how I could take all the grief life has handed me and use it to help others on their own grief journeys. That question sparked a dream: grief retreats. A place where those navigating loss can come together to share their stories, their truths, and their pain without ever hearing “get over it” or “move on.” I’m working on making that dream a reality. I have overcome a lot in this lifetime. I choose to turn that into a life full of love — even on the days when the grief feels heavy — because that’s how we make it through.
I am Jamie. And I am persevering.
