Down with flu A for 4 days, fever, coughing and nausea. Woke up today carrying the weight of the date, the heaviness that sits in the body. Today marks the 11th year Joey died.
Eleven years later, it still hurts so bad—not in the loud, drowning way, but in a deep, quiet ache that has settled into bones. It feels impossible that so much time has passed, because in so many ways, he is still right here with me—woven into my thoughts, my breath, my heartbeat.
Last week when l took the Terminal shuttle at Denver airport, a baby carried by the mom captured the whole shuttle’s attention. He kept letting out bright, bubbling laughs—pure, delighted giggles that filled the quiet space like sunlight. He was so adorable, People’s tired, heaviness lifted, replaced by that simple, effortless joy only a baby can bring.
But l was in tears. That baby’s giggles, pink cheeks, big eyes, the tiny fingers curled around his mom’s hand—struck me with a force I didn’t see coming. In that moment, I wasn’t just looking at a stranger’s child. I was seeing my own boy again, the way he looked when he was brand new to this world, fragile and perfect and completely mine. I was seeing my little boy before the hospital rooms, before the needles, before the scans and the fear.
Those memories are treasures I carry, but on days like today, they are also reminders of everything I can no longer hold. And yet, seeing that baby reminded me that nothing—not time, not grief, not death—has taken away the part of me that is still his mother.
Thanksgiving hurts because it reminds me of the year I had to say goodbye to Joey. But Thanksgiving also holds something sacred: the moment we chose to donate his two corneas. On a day when my heart was breaking in ways I didn’t know were possible, he was still giving. Still shining. Still offering light to other people. I pray the two people who received the cornea could live long, so he is still looking at sunrises and oceans and loved ones’ faces through someone else’s eyes. He is still leaving his mark. Still giving light just as he always did.
This Thanksgiving, as families gather and gratitude fills the air, my heart speaks Joey’s name. I miss him with every breath. I wish he were here at the table, laughing, growing, living the life he deserved. But I hold the gratitude too—gratitude that his light didn’t end when his life did. Gratitude that he is still touching this world in quiet, beautiful ways.
I love you, my sweet boy. I carry you with me into every Thanksgiving, into every season, into every moment of my life.
With all my love
2025 #Thanksgiving