From the first pages of reading the memoir written by today's guest, Sally McQuillen, I was quite honestly hooked. 'Reaching for Beautiful: A Memoir of Loving and Losing a Wild Child' is an absolutely beautiful story that Sally wrote after losing her 21-year-old son, Christopher, in a boating accident shortly after Christmas.

Sally shares that as she raised Christopher, she often found herself worrying about him. Christopher is described as a 'wild child' who suffered from addiction and loved to take risks. He lived every part of his life in a big way. Parenting Christopher was truly a roller coaster ride for Sally and her husband. 

After losing Christopher, Sally's life was forever changed. She says that one of the greatest lessons that she learned both from raising and losing Christopher was to learn to let go of fear and instead cling to love. Sally had to "make losing Christopher a permission slip to be compassionate" with herself. Over the next months and years, Sally was challenged to let go of the fear, guilt, and regret in order to forgive herself and move forward with life.

This was certainly not a quick process. Sally says it took her seven years to feel a sense of normalcy in her life after Christopher died. After Jen, my Instagram and Facebook videographer, watched the video of today's interview, she wrote to me that she felt so comforted when she heard Sally say that it took that long to feel 'normal' again. This is the biggest takeaway from this episode. There is no timeline for grief. Everyone’s journey is their own. Some people appear to move faster and some slower, but it is not right or wrong. We need to take that lesson from Sally and give ourselves 'permission slips' when we think about our grief. 

This brings me back to Sally's beautiful memoir. I found myself feeling so much love as I read this story, whether it was reading about Christopher's struggles in life or about Sally's grief after he died. The book is described as 'a luminous story of how love triumphs over pain, love transcends fear, and love never dies.' I couldn't agree more. Thank you, Sally.

Today's guest, Teresa Davis, currently goes by another name - The Grief Mentor. She hosts a podcast that is released twice a week. On the podcast, Teresa works to 'shine a light into the shadows, helping you discover that joy and pain can coexist, and that you can still have a purpose here on earth.' In addition to the podcast, Teresa offers a free grief survival guide, a free grief masterclass, a grief worship playlist, weekly newsletter, monthly support groups, and even one-on-one Grief Mentor sessions.

As amazing as all of these things are, however, the thing that I admire most about Teresa is her sharing of the story that got her to this place of hope and healing in her grief journey. Though Teresa had a strong faith and was leading Bible studies, that faith was rocked to its core the day her oldest son, Andrew, a 32-year-old commercial pilot, was killed in a plane crash. She says that the world lost its color that day. She felt betrayed by God. God could have protected Andrew that day, but he didn't. She had devoted her life to God, but she felt He had failed her.

Over the following months, Teresa found herself at a crossroads. She could either continue living in the darkness or she could choose to rebuild her life. Interestingly, a visit to the plane crash site months after the accident became a pivotal moment in her life. The smell of jet fuel was still in the air as she searched for where the cockpit had crashed into the ground. Suddenly, she heard God's voice in her head repeating Scripture - 'Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here.' Instead of feeling like the place of death and destruction, the crash site began to feel like a holy spot, the place where Andrew began his new life in heaven. 

Over the next months and years, Teresa's faith continued to grow and evolve. It took on a strength it had never had before. Teresa began to pray, 'Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.' He has answered this prayer again and again. Now, by working as the Grief Mentor, Teresa takes other grieving parents by the hand, showing them how to feel joy in the midst of chaos.

Today's guest, Michelle, gave me some words of wisdom from her therapist that I will remember forever. Recently, Michelle had an appointment with her counselor and was talking about how her crying was 'not pretty'. The therapist agreed, saying, "No. Crying is not pretty, but when you are crying tears over the loss of your daughter, the tears are beautiful."

This makes me think so much about grief in general. I have often described myself over the years as a 'hot mess'. April and August are my 'hot mess' months, April because of Andy's birthday on the 21st, and August due to the anniversary of his death. Additionally, this past month was extra difficult due to having the second Andy Larson Memorial Concert. For Michelle, April is an extremely challenging month as well. Her daughter Scarlett's birthday is on April 22nd, and she died after a long cancer journey two days before her 16th birthday on April 20th, 2022.

As we spoke, nearly two weeks before these big days in our lives, we were both a 'hot mess', but I wonder now if that truly is the ugly mess that I always envisioned. I remember a few months after Andy died when I first heard the term 'lament' used with my grief. I learned that what I called the 'bad' cry or the 'ugly' cry when I completely lost control and would fall into a weeping heap on the floor, was actually when I was experiencing lament. Learning the term 'lament' helped me feel so much better about showing my emotions in that way. Lament is healthy. Lament is spiritual. Lament has a purpose and helps in our healing.

I feel like this conversation with Michelle gave me a similar epiphany. Yes - Michelle and I fully admit that we are each a 'hot mess' in April, but I see now that our 'hot mess' is not necessarily ugly. We are crying beautiful tears for Scarlett and Andy. We have puffy faces, runny noses, and red eyes. Those tears may not make us look pretty on the outside, but our 'hot mess' is truly beautiful as we are freely showing lament while mourning our amazing children.

Weddings. Graduations. Births. Empty Nesting. Divorce. No one would ever say that going through a big transition like this is easy. When reviewing my curriculum for my Starlight Virtual Support group this week, I learned that when people go through any rite of passage during life, their bodies require 20-25 minutes of rest three times a day, or they can get sick. Let's take a second and really think about that - we should rest 20-25 minutes three times a day when facing big life changes.

I'm trying to look back to whether I have ever truly put aside time like that when going through big life transitions. I don't think I have. I am quite sure I am not alone in this. We are encouraged to power through and keep going until we fall into bed exhausted at night's end. Now, let's go a step further. When we are grieving and going through additional big transitions in life, is it surprising that we are completely exhausted?

This conversation with Gwen serves as a wake-up call to me, and hopefully, it will do the same for all of you. I am certain that over the past almost 300 episodes of this podcast, I have said countless times how important it is to give yourself grace while you are grieving. Today, I am going to tell you to give yourself double grace when you are going through changes in life.

Are you going through a graduation or planning for children to move off to college? Get help from others. You are more tired than your friends. They likely aren't thinking about the child whose graduation party they will never get to have, or living with the fear that when this child moves off to college, they might never see them again. Give yourself grace. Are you planning a wedding or expecting a new baby in the family? This is awesome and wonderful, but it is still exhausting, and the grief will likely bubble up when you least expect it, while looking at the empty chair in the church or in the eyes of that newborn. Give yourself grace. Are you going through the challenge of divorce? It may bring relief for a new beginning, but you may feel grief as you remember family times together. Give yourself grace.

When Britt's 4-year-old son, Persy, died from cancer 18 months ago, Britt says that she was shocked. Now, you may question why Britt says she was shocked. Persy suffered from cancer for almost two years before dying. He underwent treatment after treatment, both in their home state of Florida and in New York. Persy was sent home on hospice to spend the last three weeks of his life. How is it that Britt says she was shocked?

The answer lies in the difference between the words shock and surprise. Was Britt surprised that Persy died? No - she was not. She knew he was dying. Although she continued to pray for a miracle, she knew that his chances of recovery were minimal, so she was not surprised when Persy took his last breath. However, Britt was still shocked. No parent can truly imagine what life will be like after their child dies. We won't ever hear their voice again, be able to see their smile light up a room, or hold them close in a loving hug. We are therefore in shock when we have to experience these things, no matter whether the death was expected or not.

As the shock slowly wears off, we now realize that we must continue living, even though it feels impossible. We may cry every day. We miss them every day, but time continues to move. Britt immediately turned to other bereaved parents to ask for help. Britt says that she and her husband have held on to two truths since losing Persy. First, their faith will bring them back to Persy. Persy lives on in heaven, and someday, they will be able to join him. The second truth is that every day, they are a little closer to the day they will be reunited with Persy.

Do these truths make it easy to live here on earth without Persy? Of course not. Britt cries for Persy each day. She misses that he is not a part of her life now. She wishes her younger boys had an older brother to teach them to run, jump, and play - an older brother who might have occasionally gotten them all into trouble. Despite this longing for Persy and the life they might have had, she will continue to remind herself of the truth that one day they will all be reunited in faith.

I am quite sure I have never spoken with a parent whose child had their own Wikipedia page, but Erin's son, Keenan Cahill, does. Certainly, when Keenan was born, Erin did not ever imagine that someday, he would become an internet celebrity. From an early age, Erin worried about Keenan and his growth and development. When Keenan was 12 months old, Erin mentioned her concerns to Keenan's pediatrician. Keenan was diagnosed with Mucopolysaccharidosis Type VI. The disease was not curable, but was treatable. He underwent a bone marrow transplant to slow the progression. Erin was told that his life expectancy was between 40 and 60 years, and they should expect medical complications throughout life. 

Despite these challenges, Keenan wanted to be a regular kid, and Erin worked hard to make him feel that way. When Keenan wanted to play sports, Erin signed him up, although he could never hope to keep up with other kids. Nothing stood in his way. As Keenan started high school, he began playing around with the desktop computer he got for his birthday. He released a hilarious video of himself lip-syncing to Katy Perry's song, "Teenage Dream." People loved it, and soon it was played on The Jimmy Kimmel Show. His life changed forever.

Keenan was off to do events to entertain people. Celebrities visited their home to be in Keenan's videos, but with this newfound fame, many had negative, hurtful comments. Just as Keenan did not let his disease hold him back, he didn't let those hateful comments hold him back either. Eventually, he graduated from college and was able to produce his own music videos. 

Complications after heart surgery ended Keenan's life in 2022 at the age of 27, far earlier than expected. While the world mourned a Youtuber, Erin mourned her amazing son. As Erin shared his story, I just kept thinking about how he spread joy in his short life. That should inspire all of us, shouldn't it? Despite the grief and pain, we too can spread joy and inspire others. While we may not end up with a Wikipedia page, it will be enough to help spread some happiness or relieve a little pain in those around us.

When today's guest, Danielle, went into her 21-month-old daughter Lydia's room to wake her from a nap on Christmas Day 2022, she noted how peaceful Lydia looked. She began to gently rub her back to rouse her gradually, but Lydia did not move. Danielle started to jostle her a bit more and soon realized that something was very wrong. Lydia was not waking up. Danielle screamed for her husband's help and quickly called 911. Even as she drove to the hospital, Danielle says she did not realize the gravity of the situation.

Lydia had died. They learned from Lydia's autopsy that she had a rare congenital mesenteric defect that caused a volvulus and bowel obstruction that day. Their previously healthy, smiley, chatty girl and only child was gone. All they were given when they left the hospital were the pajamas Lydia had been wearing - pajamas that matched Danielle's own. They had no idea what to do. She desperately wanted some guidance - resources to help navigate these first unimaginable days and weeks, but they felt alone. 

Feeling lost, Danielle went home and started crocheting little white hearts. She buried Lydia with one in her hands and kept a matching one for herself. She crocheted hundreds of these tiny hearts, giving them away so others could remember Lydia's kindhearted spirit. Over the next weeks, Danielle thought more and more about walking out of that hospital with nothing but Lydia's pajamas. Within 4 months of Lydia's death, Danielle had started an organization in Lydia's memory that she named Love From Lydia. She began working with two local hospitals to help make care packages for grieving parents. Included in the package would be a pair of crocheted white hearts and information to help parents in this new, unexpected pain. 

Over time, Danielle realized that she wanted to do more than send comforting words on paper. She wanted to help make personal connections. She created COPE (Connecting Our Personal Experiences) which works to match parents with other grieving parents who are at least a year out from the death of their own child, making sure that newly bereaved parents don't feel as lost and alone as she once did.

Andy always loved dogs. I think he loved dogs so much because his personality was similar to a puppy's. He was always on the move and always excited to meet new people and to see new places. Over the years, Andy tried in vain to talk Eric into getting us a family dog. Eric came from a cat family. I came from a dog family. I am allergic to cats and Eric did not really like dogs, so our poor children ended up with pet fish instead. Once, when Andy was young, he asked me, 'If Dad dies, can we get a dog?' I was caught completely off guard but eventually had to answer that we could likely get a dog, but that we did NOT want Dad to die so it could happen.

Just like Andy, today's guest, Debbie, and her daughter, Kelsey, have always loved dogs. In Debbie's memoir, My Grief Jar, Debbie relates the stories of the many dogs in Kelsey's life. As a young girl, Kelsey initially struggled with painful urination, which led to more and more struggles with chronic pain throughout her teen years and into adulthood. Throughout it all, however, dogs were a constant in her life, bringing her much joy.

As an avid reader of memoirs, Debbie always said to Kelsey that someday 'something good' would come from all of the pain and suffering in her life. In all of the books that Debbie enjoyed, it seemed that the writer of the story would have 'something good' that would emerge from the tragedy they were experiencing. She was certain that would happen for Kelsey.  After Kelsey moved into her own home at the age of 27, she got a lab named Brody. Kelsey dreamed that Brody would become a therapy dog and visit nursing homes and hospitals, bringing a little joy to people living with chronic pain. 

Although Kelsey's pain was not thought to be life-threatening, she died from a severe bowel obstruction before Brody was old enough to be trained. Tragically, Kelsey never realized her dream, but Brody and Debbie have been able to do so. Debbie knows she is bringing Kelsey with them on every visit she and Brody make. Although Kelsey didn't get to experience her 'something good' in life, she plays a huge part in it.

Adlai Stevenson famously eulogized Eleanor Roosevelt, saying, 'She would rather light a candle than curse the darkness.'

When today's guest, Sherri, first heard this quote, she knew that she wanted it to apply to her life as well. Sherri's youngest daughter, Conni, battled through addiction and mental illness for 10 years. Sherri stayed by her side for all of that time, supporting her through the good years as well as the bad. She attended 12-step meetings with Conni and learned about addiction during Conni's low moments and celebrated with her when it seemed she was beating the addiction at last. She learned to love and support Conni while hating her addiction.

Months after Conni died by intentional drug overdose, Sherri thought of that famous quote. She had a decision to make - 'I can curse the darkness or I can light a candle.' It would be so easy to want to curse the ugliness of the world when watching a loved one battle addiction. It would be easy to simply sit in darkness after your child dies by suicide. However, Sherri did not make the easy choice. She made the heroic choice to light a candle instead. 

Sherri realized that her journey with Connie taught her three valuable lessons. Firstly, Sherri has far more compassion for others in pain. Secondly, she is far less judgmental of others and their actions. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, Sherri is not afraid of ugly. She has lived through the ugliest of the ugly and is still breathing. Sherri knew that she could demonstrate to others that they can do the same. She started posting on Instagram as @itsalifeunexpected to show that it is possible to love and support people through addiction without losing yourself in the process.

You see, Sherri knew that she was not going to be the last mom to watch their child battle addiction. She would not be the last mom whose child took their own life. Sherri also knew she wanted to be a light to those who would come after her. She wanted to hold a candle for them and work to light hundreds more along the path so they would not feel quite so lost and alone.

When Larry lost his son, Rob, to suicide six years ago, Larry was devasted. He immediately found a grief counselor and signed up to be in a grief support group. After two months of waiting, he attended his first support group meeting. He said he did not expect to like being in a support group, but, shortly after starting, Larry realized that he had found 'his people'. Larry felt like they could speak a language that 'ordinary' parents could not understand. 

When one of the other parents in his support group wished out loud that there was a guidebook for bereaved parents, Larry felt inspired to write such a book. Larry wrote 'A Space in the Heart' (available on Amazon) as an honest guide to help bereaved parents while they are in their deepest, darkest pain.

Larry writes:  

"When your child is taken from you, you are no longer ordinary parents. Ordinary parents don’t visit their child in a cemetery. Ordinary parents don’t cry themselves to sleep at night. Ordinary parents don’t wake up each morning knowing they’ll never see their child again. We become extra ordinary. But after a while, something strange takes place that’s right out of a Marvel comic book. A metamorphosis occurs during our grief and mourning, transforming us from extra ordinary to extraordinary.

We are extraordinary parents who must go on living in the world with a hole in our hearts. We are extraordinary parents who, in many cases, still love and care for our other children. We are extraordinary parents who go to work every day and function as human beings, while most people are unaware of our secret identities. We are extraordinary parents who feel things that no ordinary parent has ever felt, and we can endure the deepest pain because that has become one of our superpowers."

You may not feel like you have superpowers. You may feel weaker than you have ever been in your life, but Larry's words inspire me to hold my head a little higher. We are no longer ordinary parents. In fact, we are no longer ordinary people at all. We are extraordinary and have so much to offer the world.