Tag: family

The Weight of Resistance

There’s a part of me that still refuses to accept Tristan is gone. I know what happened. I’ve lived every moment since. But something inside me keeps fighting the truth, as if denial could somehow undo it. I catch myself avoiding thoughts of him—not because I don’t want to remember, but because remembering hurts. And yet, not remembering hurts even more.

This resistance isn’t strength. It’s suffering. It shows up in the quiet hours, in the heaviness behind my eyes, in the ache that never quite leaves my chest. I try to push forward, to be okay, to function. But grief doesn’t work like that. It waits. It whispers. It demands to be felt.

I’ve come to realize that my pain isn’t just about losing Tristan—it’s about the fight against that loss. The refusal to accept what life has handed me. And while I’m not ready to fully embrace this reality, I’m learning that acceptance isn’t surrender. It’s not forgetting. It’s not letting go of love. It’s simply allowing myself to feel, to grieve, to heal.

Every day is a choice: to resist or to soften. And while I’m still learning how to live with this, I know that Tristan’s love is still here. Maybe acceptance begins with that.

For Trenton, With Love

In the midst of my own grief, I often think about Trenton—my younger son, my steady light, and someone who’s also navigating the heartbreak of losing his brother. Tristan and Trenton were together nearly every day of Trenton’s life. Their bond was layered: full of laughter, teasing, deep loyalty, and yes, sometimes that classic love-hate rhythm only brothers understand.

I’ve watched Trenton carry this loss in his own quiet way. And I want him to know—deeply and truly—how much I love and appreciate him. His strength, his humor, his resilience. The way he still talks about Tristan, still remembers the little things, still holds space for his brother in his heart.

Being their mom is the greatest gift I’ve ever known. And while grief has reshaped our world, it hasn’t dimmed the love. If anything, it’s made it clearer. Trenton, you are so loved. You are seen. And I’m endlessly proud of the way you continue forward, even when it hurts.

Their Winding Paths

Tristan and Trenton were born into a rhythm only brothers know—one of shared rooms, shared jokes, shared battles, and shared love. From the very beginning, they were side by side. Every day of Trenton’s life was touched by Tristan’s presence, whether in laughter, teasing, or quiet companionship. Their connection was layered and real—sometimes playful, sometimes stormy, but always rooted in something deeper than words.

Now, their paths have diverged in ways we never imagined. Tristan’s journey continues in spirit, in memory, in the light he left behind. Trenton’s journey continues here, in the tangible world, carrying both his own story and the echoes of his brother’s. And yet, they are still intertwined. I see it in the way Trenton remembers. In the way he speaks Tristan’s name. In the way he holds space for him, even when it hurts.

Their bond didn’t end—it transformed. One path visible, one path unseen, but both winding through the landscape of love. As their mom, I walk both trails in my heart. I honor Tristan’s legacy and nurture Trenton’s growth, knowing that each step forward is stitched with memory, resilience and the unbreakable thread of brotherhood.