Who knew life could fall apart so suddenly? I grew up in a very close knit family. Game nights, fun dinners, road trips, and making forts out of couch cushions were regular occurrences in my home. The members of my family have always been my best friends. We did everything together, always. At just sixteen years old, on October 1st, 2023, that all changed. Everyone in my family started to wake up and get ready for the day; everyone but one. “Dad’s not breathing!” My youngest brother suddenly screamed. The impossible had just happened. In an instant, my world was destroyed. Time seemed to stop, but I quickly realized that wasn’t true. People were immediately by our side and supporting us, but as time continued they stopped showing up. People stopped checking in on my family. Our closest friends stopped bringing dinner over. Everyone’s lives got too busy. While those around us eventually went back to their normal lives, we were forced to face a torn reality. Even though my mom, brothers and I grieved together, I felt so lonely. This weight of never ending grief began to drag me down, I had no idea how to escape. It was as though I had a chain wrapped around my ankle imprisoning me to that day. I eventually went back to school like normal, but going home after was always torture. There would never be talking with my dad in silly accents or chasing each other around the house with blankets over our heads again. I had to just accept it, but I couldn’t. Months went by and it slowly began to feel easier. But then the school email entered my inbox. One of my very own peers at school had a brain tumor, she went to sleep and was never going to wake up, just like my dad. There I was, back at square one with my nemesis... grief. However, something was different this time. I was able to step up and counsel my peers through this tragedy. I dug into my own broken heart where I kept the memory of my dad and shared it with my schoolmates. I was able to be there for my peers and speak life into a community that was facing death. I realized that using my experience to help others was helping me to heal. This experience shined a light on a career direction and I now feel called to pursue a collegiate major in Psychology with an emphasis in counseling. I want to learn to understand the human mind and how it processes grief. I am excited to use that information to talk to and comfort others through counseling and being effectively present with those suffering. I look at my own grief journey and want to create a healthier environment which allows others to live alongside their grief, helping them to view grief as a testimony of growth instead of an anchor of defeat. I may not be able to make forts out of couch cushions with my dad or run around the house with a blanket on my head with him anymore, but I am no longer debilitated by the loss, rather, I am learning how to grow through the pain and I want to help others do the same. I feel blessed to have heard your story of Brooks and the impact he had and continues to give through your courage to help others. His story encourages me and I hope to pass on that encouragement as well with the time I am given.