My Story
On the afternoon of December 24, 2023, I was at home preparing the dining table for Christmas Eve dinner. My son's father called. I knew instantly something was wrong. 
Mack was dead. He had been killed. He was my only child. He was 20. 
The agony that followed this news is indescribable. A blur of confusion, disbelief, and numbing pain consumed me. Nothing would ever be the same. I was thrust into an arduous, unwelcomed journey. 
Today, I am a different person. I have lost so much but I have gained something, too. I have a different relationship with my son but he is undoubtedly still with me. I look at the world through a brand new lens and, yes, I walk daily with grief. I acknowledge it, I hold its hand, and I accept that it is part of me now.