Finding Our Way Through Grief: A Thanksgiving Reflection
I woke in the wee hours of this Thanksgiving morning, realizing I had been dreaming of Christina and I trying to find authentic fresh fried tortilla chips in the Midwest… of all things. A huge lump was taking over my throat again… and I am bewildered by the depth of my grief. Is it the suddenness? Her youth? Who she left behind? Is it that she loved me, her stepmom, so freely?
A photo with Christina with her lovely art as the backdrop.
This Thanksgiving marks a poignant moment for our family, the first major holiday without Christina, my stepdaughter, who passed away suddenly on July 3, 2024. She was only 34 years old, a devoted wife, mother, artist, writer and deeply in love with Jesus. Her loss feels incomprehensible, leaving a hole in our hearts that words struggle to describe.
When my husband Alan and I moved to Minnesota in July 2023, we were filled with excitement to be closer to family. Living just 25 minutes away from Alan’s son Blake, his wife Abby, and their daughter Ella was a dream come true. Even more, being just a few hours’ drive from Christina, her husband Barry, and their two children, Emmett and Kate, in Stevens Point, Wisconsin, filled our hearts with hope for frequent visits and shared memories.
We had one beautiful year together here in the Midwest. Looking back, it feels painfully short. Christina’s sudden passing from a heart condition has left us bewildered and aching. It’s a loss we are all still learning to carry, one that reshapes the rhythm of our daily and family life.
Remembering Christina
From the first moment I met her, Christina’s warmth and kindness stood out. I recall that she introduced me to Pinterest… and suddenly I was dreaming as I scanned the pictures that people posted… finding pins that represented what I wanted for Alan’s and my wedding reception and having her comment how much she loved my pins. At our wedding reception, she made me feel so special by offering to fix my hair—a small gesture that left a lasting impression. Over the years, she welcomed me into her life with open arms, sharing moments of laughter and love. They would fly out to California or we would fly out here to the Midwest… creating memories, deepening our bonds.
Alan’s and my wedding reception in October 2013 (wedding was July 30).
I remember when she and Barry told Alan and I, before anyone else, that they were expecting Emmett. That trust and intimacy created a bond I’ll cherish forever. Together, we celebrated milestones, baby showers, new babies, cooked meals (she loved my Mexican tacos and made them perfectly!), and I marveled at her incredible ability to juggle motherhood, homeschooling, work, and her own passions.
It’s her heart I miss today. She had a heart so big… it was her strength—and, heartbreakingly, her weakness. Losing her has made me reflect on all the ways she opened my heart, especially as someone who always longed for a daughter. Christina wasn’t just a stepdaughter; she was the daughter I never had, and I miss her every single day. My heart squeezes every time I think of her and our loss.
Grieving as a Family
Grief is a complicated, solitary, and yet deeply shared experience. Thanksgiving feels different this year. Our family is scattered, each of us grieving in our own way. It feels like we’re still figuring out how to “family” without Christina. I know that we all grieve in different ways and we are trying to be respectful of everyone’s grieving process. We are all doing the best we can.
Family Photo in Santiago Creek Park, Santa Ana, CA, January 2015
Her children—Emmett and Kate—are so young. I worry about how they’ll navigate life’s milestones without their mother. I grieve for Barry, for the partner he lost too soon, for Blake and Abby as they lost their sister, for Ella that will hardly remember her, and for Alan, who aches for his daughter and all they will no longer have. And I grieve for myself, for the years we won’t have and the memories we can no longer make.
Adding to this sorrow, we lost Sammy, our sweet cat, just a week after Christina’s memorial service. It was another blow to an already tender time, and seeing my son Nathaniel so heartbroken compounded the pain, as this was the second well loved pet we lost in the last year and a half.
Finding Meaning in the Grief
As I navigate these emotions, I’ve found comfort in scrapbooking my favorite memories, writing and attending a grief support group. Putting thoughts into words, voicing my turmoil helps me untangle the feelings of loss, regret, and gratitude. Through reflection, I’ve come to understand that my tears are not just for Christina’s absence. The tears are also for all the dreams and hopes I had for our future together as part of our family.
My surprise 60th birthday dinner in Burnsville, MN, December 2023… our last time all together as one big family!
This Thanksgiving, I’m holding onto the moments we did share over the 11 years I was privileged to have her in my life: the recent joy of her and Abby helping Alan plan my surprise 60th birthday dinner after last Christmas, our Easter visit to Stevens Point, and all the little, everyday acts of love she offered so freely. I don’t want Easter to be the last time I hugged her…just one more hug, please.
Moving Forward
Grief is not something we overcome; it’s something we learn to carry. I want to honor Christina’s memory by cherishing her legacy of kindness, creativity, and love. I hope to continue to be a steady presence in Emmett and Kate’s lives, just as she would have wanted. Sharing my creative talent with Kate (a very creative heart) and being another grandma to Emmett and his wild boy & gear-headed ways.
As we approach the holiday season, I’m reminded of Christina’s generosity and faith in Jesus. Though her absence is keenly felt, her spirit lives on in the hearts of those who loved her. I am thankful for time I had with her, and that my wonderful and loving husband is here with me as we navigate this new life without her. This sad time has deepened my relationship with Alan and especially with Jesus, as I lean into Him in ways I never have before… finding my heart’s resilience.
To anyone grieving this season, know you’re not alone. Grief is a reflection of our love of those we lost, and our love—though it changes—never truly ends.
If you’d like to share your own memories of Christina or reflections on navigating loss, feel free to reach out or comment below. Let’s support one another in finding light through the darkness on this Thanksgiving weekend.
