Magic Didn't Last

For those who know Sam and me well, it will come as no surprise that Sam took a ton more photos and videos than I did—especially videos! For whatever reason, I’ve never been one to capture videos, and I rarely watch back the few that I have taken. I’m more the type to enjoy a school play in the moment rather than view it through my phone’s camera. But boy, am I grateful Sam had a different approach. She took thousands of photos and videos of Carter and Sofia. Many of those are now the most precious gifts I have—memories I can replay forever. One of the first things I did after Sofia passed away was go through all of Sam's photos from 2020-2024 and pull out my favorite ones of Sofia. Sam, like most people, backs up her photos to iCloud, but I needed to have these special photos saved in more than one place. It would take me weeks to go through over 10,000 photos. I selected many of them for the slideshow we played at Sofia’s Celebration of Life. The task of sorting through that many...

Since Sofia passed away, I’ve been exposed to an abundance of people who are grieving the loss of their loved ones. Either directly, through stories I’ve heard or things I’ve read. I’ve also been quite active trying to work on my own grief too. I’ve interacted with a grief counsellor, I’ve read books, listened to podcasts, watched videos and, very recently, joined a group session organized by Canuck Place. One of the most common behaviours I’ve observed among grieving individuals is their deliberate avoidance of visual reminders of their loss, which could potentially trigger emotional distress. For some, that might look like removing pictures in their house. For others, it might be avoiding places or people where memories are their most intense. It’s rational behaviour if you ask me. Even if you’re not grieving a loved one, everyone likely has a tendency to find ways to avoid things that might cause pain. Yet, for whatever reason, it hasn’t been my path. Instead, I’ve found myself putt...

After months and months of planning, we finally arrived in Mazatlan last Tuesday, November 5th. As I write this, it's been a week and, overall, it's been amazing. I'm currently sitting on our deck around 4:45pm while Carter and Sam attend a birthday party nearby. This time of day is incredible. The temperature is perfect and there's usually a gentle breeze as the sun starts its descent.  We live in a condo building that sits next to the hole 3 fairway of the golf course that snakes its way around the homes in the neighborhood. It's a 4 storey building and we are on floor 3. Only 7 units in total in our building so it's pretty quiet.  It's in a large gated community that has houses, townhouses and condos throughout. A lot of Sam's friends live within the same community too which is very nice. A couple of her friends, Elo and Maria Jose, have helped us a ton during our first week. Driving us around the city to grab groceries, household supplies, take Carte...

For years, I’ve felt as though I’m drifting down a river. Sometimes it's a very enjoyable ride, the gentle rapids even offering a subtle, soothing bounce. Other times, the current becomes a relentless force, rocketing me through the fiercest of waters, my kayak constantly threatening to capsize. Even in those most threatening situations though, I’ve always managed to steady myself. But the ride down the river never stops. It’s an unending drift, and the longer I float, the stronger my desire grows to find a way to stop it —if only for a moment. I’ve long wished to press pause on life, to step away from the daily noise and immerse myself in a different environment for a while. I've felt that if I could step away for a bit, I could properly reflect on the life I’ve lived so far and what the future could hold if I approached it with newfound clarity and intention. And, more recently, I've craved an opportunity to find space and time to heal and rebuild myself. Samantha spent ...

Today marks five months since Sofia left us. Depending on the  lens I choose to view that through, I can feel the weight of every single minute of that five months or I can feel like it just happened. Either way I look at it, it remains so hard. I can't put into words just how much I miss her every single day. Not always in a sad way though. Most of the time I spend missing her is actually spent smiling or laughing to myself thinking of the memories I have.  I've done nearly everything suggested to me to work through the grief. I've been working with  an incredible counsellor. I've been writing in this blog.  I've pushed myself to lean into pain and I've given myself permission to take breaks from the grief. I could fill this page with  a laundry list of things I've done since April 14th to cope with the emptiness I feel every day. While I probably feel her loss more than ever today, I am getting better at coping with the symptoms that come from that loss. T...

A year ago today was one of the happiest days of my life. Sofia entered the hospital on July 19th last year. At that time, we had no idea if or when she might be able to come home. Forty-nine long days later, on September 6th, Sofia finally made it home. I still remember pulling into our neighborhood and wondering how she might react. I remember showing her the painted rocks in front of our house that our neighbors had made for her while she was away. I remember it took multiple trips from the car to the house to bring in all the belongings we had accumulated over those 49 days—so many amazing and kind gifts given to Sofia while she was in the hospital would finally be home where they belonged. It felt like a massive milestone at the time, and I recall it giving us a ton of hope for Sofia’s future. So, it’s a little ironic that today was the day I ended up going back to that same place we had celebrated leaving. Today, I returned to Children’s Hospital for the first time since Sofia pa...

One of things I find myself struggling with the most recently is feeling incomplete. On this past weekend, Sam, Carter and I were in Bridal Falls camping. We had been to the same campground a little over a year ago but that time Sofia was with us. It was one of the very last times we would vacation together with her. Oddly though, I wasn't really affected by the familiar scenery and most of the memories that spun in my head over the weekend were happy memories that made me smile more than invoke a feeling a sadness. What did affect me though was seeing so many families enjoying their camping experience together; presumably with their families still intact. Every father with their daughter got to me. Every girl that even remotely resembled Sofia got to me. Seeing siblings playing together got to me. And this very odd feeling would come over me occasionally like everyone was staring at me; somehow knowing we were missing someone who was with us the last time we were there.  For those...