15/05/2026
Today is a heavy day.
Eleven years ago today, my brother lost his 20-year battle with opioid addiction. His journey began at just 14 years old after a devastating BMX accident that left him with a broken neck, broken back, and broken knee. At the time, we were simply grateful he survived. He spent months in a halo, endured multiple surgeries, lost many of his friends, and was prescribed OxyContin for the pain. My parents were told it wasn’t addictive. We all know now how tragically untrue that was.
For twenty years he fought. And eventually, addiction took him from us.
He was an incredible musician (see 2nd to last slide) , but even more than that, he was an incredible human being — a father, son, brother, and friend who loved deeply and lived fully. We miss him.
Addiction touches so many lives, whether directly or through someone we love. That’s part of why teaching yoga at Root Awakening has become so meaningful to me. It’s a recovery center, yes, but also a place for healing in all forms — grief, divorce, loss, addiction, heartbreak, loneliness. We are all carrying something.
I could not save my brother. But maybe, in some small way, I can help others feel seen, supported, and less alone.
I invite you to consider making a donation to .farm so we can continue building community, connection, and healing for those who need it most.
This week has held so much duality. Alongside the anniversary of losing my brother, we also had to place my dad into a home because of Alzheimer’s. My heart is heavy in ways that are hard to explain. And yet, at the very same time, our family is celebrating immense joy and pride — my son becoming the new drum major at Middleton High School.
Life is both grief and gratitude existing together.
I know Kevin would be unbelievably proud of all of his nieces and nephews. Proud of his daughter Ivy, who is graduating and on track to become a physical therapist. Proud of his son, Oscar, in grad school for physics. Proud of all of us for continuing forward while carrying him with us.
And I know somewhere he’s smiling — playing music, doing flips on his bike, and loving with that enormous heart of his. Always.
12/05/2026
13/03/2026