About Me

I believe that often we discover the truest sense of ourselves and uncover our souls purpose in the face of the most challenging and painful experiences in our lives.

When I was 21, I lost my father to cancer. He passed away exactly one year after he was diagnosed with stage four brain cancer. I consider myself very fortunate to have had that time to say the things I needed to say and ask the questions I needed to ask. That final year with him was one of the most difficult years of my life, but perhaps the most special as well; I cherish every moment we had to sit in silence together, every step I got to walk with him, and every word we shared.

While I am able to experience gratitude for those moments now, that perspective has only come from many years of working through my grief and making sense of this challenging, and yet, beautiful life.

The first year was a blur. I attempted to pull myself through the pain by operating under one basic principle: that life was short and needed to be lived. I travelled, chased adventure, and studied hard. But as soon as I stopped long enough to actually sit with how I was feeling, I found myself drowning in fear, emptiness, sadness, anger, and guilt. My grief had a palpable weight that only seemed to get heavier with every attempt to “move on.” I found myself longing for him; searching for elements of him in just about everything. My suffering had stolen something from me that I would forever chase and unsuccessfully regain.

I continued to struggle through the days and people did not understand. Everyone kept telling me that he wouldn’t want me to be sad anymore, which I believed to be true, but I truly did not know how to get through the pain. It felt like the rest of the world had sunny blue skies and I was being followed by a single black cloud, dulling all light and color in my world. It was an isolating feeling, I felt like a burden for being emotional, and sometimes I had very little hope that I would ever get through this. This was the first time in my life I understood that the rational mind could not take away this pain by convincing myself that it was “okay”. The pain was there and it was begging to be felt.

My healing began when I recreated the connection my father and I had. I started a ritual of waking up early and having coffee with the sunrise to feel connected to him (this was something we did together when he was alive). I began speaking openly about him, as if he still had a vital role in my life. I explored spirituality through yoga and meditation. I reflected deeply about my existence, which at times came with fear and anxiety, but mostly fueled a deeper appreciation for my life and the people around me. I committed myself to working on my relationships; trying to be a better person and friend, and opening my heart to connect to new people. I sat with the stillness of grief, and struggled my way through feelings of loneliness until I was able to discover solitude and comfort in that place… I had to drop all ideas of what I “should” be doing and learn to listen to what my heart and body needed from me.

These efforts did not come without their own unique challenges. While I felt inspired and connected to my dad, I also felt empty at every failed attempt to fill that space in my heart. Through much of my own personal work, I have come to recognize the power of integrating the void of that loss into its own unique and beautiful part of who I am. Acceptance that this void could never be filled created a dramatic shift for me. Grief changes us, and the reality is, time is not what heals. Healing requires us to be vulnerable with ourselves, to feel, to allow ourselves to be human, and to open our hearts to see the simple beauty around us.

There are still days that I cry. I cry when I think of the fear he must have experienced facing his own death and leaving his children behind. I cry because I simply miss the sound of his voice and the comfort of his hugs. I cry because he is not here to experience my future with me… But most days, I am deeply grateful for this life he has given me. I am humbled by the kindness of others and I cherish even the smallest of things in life, like a cup of coffee in the morning. Life is more beautiful now; more vivid; more intense; more colorful; more meaningful; and insanely full of love. Life is precious and challenging. I get through the most difficult days by allowing myself to feel what I need to feel, and doing my best to focus my energy on gratitude and love.

Dad, you have left me with a special scar; from the bottom of my heart, with tears and laughter, thank you.

Heart 2 Heart.

With warmth and gratitude,

Katrina