Losing a Child: Always Andy's Mom
Today's guest, Jonathon’s book, , captured me from the first page—a work that feels both intimate and universal. Indigo, the hue between blue and violet, appears in rainbows and twilight skies, yet it rarely gets named. Likewise, grief lingers in daily life, hovering just out of sight, unspoken because its rawness makes many uneasy. Jonathon uses the color as a quiet metaphor for sorrow that colors our existence without ever dominating the palette. A decade ago, Jonathon’s world shattered when his eldest daughter, Quincy, died in a sudden car accident. As a pastor, the loss forced him to...
info_outlineLosing a Child: Always Andy's Mom
During one of the first grief‑support group sessions that Eric and I attended in the weeks after Andy died, our facilitators led us in an exercise. We were given a black‑and‑white copy of an image created by H. Norman Wright titled “Grief – A Tangled Ball of Emotions.” The picture resembled a ball of yarn, but instead of yarn strands, it had strips winding around the sphere, each labeled with a different emotion. The exercise was simple. We received crayons and were asked to color in any stripe that represented an emotion we had felt during that week. I remember starting at...
info_outlineLosing a Child: Always Andy's Mom
Today's guest, Stephanie, says that her son, Jr., had a lifelong mantra that he lived by - ‘me versus me.’ He even had this phrase tattooed on himself for his 18th birthday. Rather than measuring himself against anyone else, he aimed each day to outdo the person he had been yesterday. A year ago, Jr. was a senior in high school, preparing to enlist in the Marine Corps. He was an avid athlete as a cross‑country runner, weightlifter, and participant in several team sports. That autumn, he trained for a half‑marathon, hoping to break the two‑hour barrier. The whole family was at...
info_outlineLosing a Child: Always Andy's Mom
Today's guest, Lisa, says she has always felt a special, spiritual link to her eldest daughter, Libby—starting when Libby was an infant and lasting throughout her life. One night, Lisa complained to her husband about a throbbing thumb. The next morning, Libby called, saying she had hurt her thumb and thought it was broken. When Libby’s father asked if the injury happened around 9 pm, Libby confirmed the time of the injury, but she was puzzled until he answered, “Your mother felt that.” Despite being over 200 miles away and unaware of any injury, Lisa sensed Libby’s broken...
info_outlineLosing a Child: Always Andy's Mom
Jerry’s passion is helping bereaved children. When I was first introduced to her, Jerry was described as a widowed mother with a heart for grieving kids. She’d written a fictional tale for late‑elementary and middle‑school readers about a ten‑year‑old girl coping with her father’s death. The story follows Joy’s grief journey, letting parents buy a companion workbook so children can record their own feelings while reading. I booked Jerry for the show because listeners frequently ask how parents can support grieving children. I didn’t realize her personal loss mirrored our own...
info_outlineLosing a Child: Always Andy's Mom
Eight minutes. That is how long it took for Michael's life to be forever changed. In late November 2016, a fire broke out in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Unbeknownst to Michael, the winds picked up while he was driving with his oldest son, and the fires swept toward the family home. Michael is haunted by nightmares of his frantic drive back through the fires, trying to get back home. By the time he arrived, the fire had taken the lives of his daughters, Chloe and Lily, as well as his wife, Constance. In the months after the fires, as Michael struggled to sleep, he would write about...
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He should be here. Today's guest, Lindsay, says that these are the four most impactful words that have been said to her in the year since her 6-month-old son, Chase, died from bacterial meningitis. These words don't try to cheer her up or remind her of some grand plan. They simply acknowledge the wrongness of the whole situation. Lindsay's family no longer feels complete without Chase. Smiling 'Chasey' should be tagging along, trying to keep up with his big brother, Jack. Chase should be here. From the time her two boys were tiny babies, Lindsay would read to them. She loved reading board...
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I feel like God arranges for certain guests to come on the podcast just when I need them most. On the day of this interview, I was particularly weepy, missing Andy even more than I normally do. I think God knew I needed someone to cry with, and Nancy was that someone. Nancy calls her son, Jacob, her Buddha baby, weighing 11 pounds 3 ounces at birth. The bib that they brought with them to the hospital would not even fit around his neck. However, that was not the only reason Jacob was called her Buddha Baby. Even as an infant, Jacob seemed to be a calming presence to everyone around him. ...
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Grief and Laughter. At first glance, it may seem like these words could be considered polar opposites, but as we grieve, moments of laughter and joy can be a balm for the soul. The intense pain of grief oftentimes feels overwhelming. It is deep and dark, and it can feel like it will go on forever. I remember the first time that I laughed after Andy died. I felt tremendous guilt. Andy was dead. I felt like I should never laugh again. I should be sad every moment of every day. But that is not how we were made. We were created to be beings that felt joy and happiness. My mind wouldn't let me stay...
info_outlineLosing a Child: Always Andy's Mom
Today's guest, Catherine, says that in many ways, she grieved for her daughter, Helen, not once but twice. The grieving began after she suffered complications during delivery, which led to seizures that began shortly after birth and multiple medical complications. Catherine grieved for the life she had hoped and dreamed of for Helen. Then, fourteen years later, Catherine's grief started fresh when Helen died unexpectedly in her sleep. Although Catherine says that she grieved Helen twice, Helen's 14 years were not years full of sadness and grief. They were joy-filled years. Catherine loved...
info_outlineFrom 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.