This past year marked an important milestone for today's guest, LeeAnn. Aaron was killed in a car accident 18 years ago when he was 18 years of age. It never hit LeeAnn until last summer when someone asked her two questions: How long ago did Aaron die? How old was Aaron when he died? The answer to both questions was the same - 18 years. It was difficult for LeeAnn to believe.

LeeAnn says that she had two major epiphanies in her life. The first happened two years after Aaron died when she says she was in such deep darkness that she was simply existing. Her two sisters confronted her that day and asked, "Do you want to live? You are slowly killing yourself." LeeAnn had two other sons and family members who loved and needed her. She decided that she did want to live. She began to eat better and function - but she still did not feel joy.

That second epiphany happened several years later. LeeAnn realized she was existing and not truly engaging with life. She was not feeling any true happiness. She made a drastic change then, leaving her marriage and moving out on her own. She learned to find joy again. LeeAnn eventually remarried and had a third major event in her life. LeeAnn and her husband were looking for a therapist to help with a family issue related to one of his children. LeeAnn was suddenly reminded that she had been given the name of a therapist by a bereaved mom over a decade before whom she had never called.

Now, she called the number and made an appointment. The family issue was quickly resolved, but LeeAnn realized she had never properly grieved Aaron. She had made decisions to live and feel joy again, but she had not leaned into her own grief. She had tried to tuck it away, hoping it would resolve, but even after all that time, the grief sat there, waiting for her to pick it up and work through it. The therapist has been amazing for LeeAnn and beginning last year, LeeAnn volunteers to help other grieving parents in their journeys. She certainly hopes for them that it won't take 18 years to get where she is today, but she accepts that she couldn't have done it any other way.

"Medicine has reached the end of what it can do for your daughter. Our suggestion is that you take her home on hospice and enjoy her."

These are the words that were spoken to today's guest, Nikki, on September 30, 2020. Before that day, Nikki and her family had been searching unrelentingly for someone who could diagnose and treat their young daughter, Felicity. Although they took her to various physicians and hospitals, they were never able to get a diagnosis. At the time of her death at 21 months of age, Felicity was a sassy thing who still weighed less than 9 pounds. For the next weeks, they enjoyed Felicity as much as possible. They loved her every single day. Nikki said that on the day Felicity died, Felicity's suffering ended, but her own truly began.

Child loss of any type is devasting, but it is especially complicated when there is no answer as to why the child died. When someone asks what happened to Felicity, Nikki has to answer, "I don't know." For years, Nikki lived with so much guilt, thinking that there must be something she could have done differently. There should have been a way to get more help. Nikki desperately wanted to find out what happened to Felicity. Eventually, though, Nikki realized that she had done the best she could with the information she had at the time. If hundreds of experts could not diagnose Felicity, Nikki could not either.

Although geneticists are still looking for a diagnosis for Felicity, Nikki has turned her immediate focus on her living children. She says that while her grief has felt crushing, watching her children grieve Felicity has been even worse. The family talks about Felicity constantly. They do not hide from their grief. They acknowledge it and have learned from it. When Nikki's oldest son learned that his best friend's baby brother had died (Episode 271: AJ's Mom & Dad), he asked if they could bring him to see his friend, saying, "Mom, DI just needs a hug."

Maybe Nikki and her family will never learn exactly what happened to Felicity, but they have learned one important life lesson. Sometimes, you don't need an answer - you just need a hug.

Congratulations! You did it! You made it through Christmas and New Year's!

I highly doubt any bereaved person has ever had these words said to them, but today, I say them to all of you. It is tough to be a grieving person during the holidays. It is difficult to see smiling, happy faces that seem to surround you everywhere you go. It can be challenging to spend time with whole families when your own feels utterly broken, but you did it.

I really loved this week's podcast with Gwen. When she suggested this topic, I have to admit, I was a little hesitant. I had made it through the holidays. I wasn't sure I really wanted to go back and do a recap, but it turns out, it was very healing to revisit how things went over the past month. I certainly remembered the challenges, but this podcast helped me think about my successes as well.

This was our 6th holiday season without Andy, and each one has been unique. We were home for Christmas for the first time and did far more of our 'normal' Christmas traditions. This year, attending church was far more difficult than other Christmases have been. The present opening part of Christmas, on the other hand, was probably the most fun one yet with far more smiles than tears. Talking with Gwen on the podcast this week helped me realize that I can feel a bit of pride for everything that I was able to do, even if sometimes I still shook with sobs. Tears are not signs of failure; they are a healthy emotional release.

As you listen to the podcast this week, I invite you to look back on your own holiday season. You may have done all of your normal family traditions. You may have done none of your normal family traditions. You may have been at home with a few people. You may have attended big family gatherings. It doesn't really matter how you spent your time - you made it through. You are still breathing. You are still getting out of bed in the morning. Congratulate yourself. Celebrate. Take a deep breath. You deserve it.