Category: Uncategorized
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The Rose Rocks Beneath the Twin Oaks Before my son Quinten died, he told us exactly where he wanted to be buried. Beneath the twin oak trees on our land. Not in a cemetery somewhere away from home, but here, on the property where he had lived, where our family had gathered, and where so…
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There are some things in life you never want to become an expert in. Losing your child is one of them. I never imagined I would know what it feels like to watch my son take his last breath. I never imagined I would understand the silence that follows when the hospice nurses leave, the…
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When Quinten died, people gave us cards. They brought food. They sent messages. They hugged me. They told me they were sorry. And I was grateful for every act of kindness. But there was something else I desperately needed. I needed someone to tell me how I was supposed to live when my son was…
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Today is the first day of fall. Quinten would have loved it. Fall was his favorite time of year. He looked forward to the cooler temperatures, the changing leaves, and being able to spend more time outdoors without the heaviness of summer heat. And after the extreme heat we’ve had this year, I have been…
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I made it through the first year. I have heard people say that the first year after losing someone is the hardest. Just get through the first birthday. The first Thanksgiving. The first Christmas. The first Mother’s Day. The first anniversary. Once you’ve survived all of those “firsts,” somehow, things are supposed to start getting…
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Becoming a mother while learning how to live without Quinten. Most of the stories on The Q Life are told through my experience of losing my son. But Quinten’s death created many different kinds of grief within our family. This week, I’m honored to share my daughter Whitney’s story, the story of losing her brother…
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Every Saturday at noon, the sirens sound. For most people around here, they’re simply the weekly tornado siren test. For me, they mean something entirely different. They mean Quinten. Saturday has been family dinner day in our family for years. And around noon, when those sirens sounded, Quinten would arrive. It became so predictable that…
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Dear Everett, Happy first birthday, sweet boy. Someday, when you are old enough to understand these words, I hope you will read this letter and know just how much your arrival meant to our family—and especially to your Granny. You came into this world during one of the most difficult seasons of my life. Just…
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We almost never recognize “the last time” while we’re living it. No one tells us. There isn’t a warning. No voice whispers, “Pay attention. This is the last one.” If we knew, we’d linger a little longer. We’d hug a little tighter. We’d listen a little more carefully. But life doesn’t work that way. We…
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Sometimes grief doesn’t announce itself with tears. Sometimes it hangs quietly on the back of a truck seat. A few days ago, James found Quinten’s fishing vest. Without saying much, he draped it over the passenger seat in his truck. That’s where it rides now. Not because he forgot to put it away. Because he…
