I get a lot of messages from caring people who wonder how my wife and other children are doing. I understand that question. Because this blog has focused heavily on Mitch and my own grief process, people are left to wonder whether others in my family are being left behind. 

Though I have thousands upon thousands of stories yet to tell and photos to share of Mitch and his journey, I recognize Mitchell’s Journey didn't end upon his passing. The echo of Mitch and his life continues to be felt in our family. I will share some contemporary snapshots of our family and life in the coming months - because we, too, carry Mitchell's Journey in our hearts. His journey has forever changed the trajectory of ours. 

I have recognized an interesting trend on Mitchell’s Journey. At first this was a quiet, ordinary place to post. Then came the holocaust of losing my son. Out of curiosity many came to watch someone die. But now, I see more and more people coming to watch how to live. 

But what is living? It is hurting. It is winning. And losing. It’s trying each day to be a little better than we were the day before. Sometimes, when I walk on Jupiter, I can only hope to catch my breath and not be crushed under the gravity of grief. At least for me, I have come to believe living is loving. For without love, we are dead inside.

Though I write almost exclusively of Mitch here, I have just as many memories and just as many photos of my other children. Each journey is just as unique and wonderful as my fallen son’s.

So, this is us. We’re imperfect, sometimes a little unsure of ourselves, sometimes a lot. But we are always real. We would give the shirt off our back for someone in need and wish we had enough shirts to blanket the world with warmth and love. 

Although we miss Mitch with all our hearts, in our brokenness we have learned to love deeper and appreciate each moment with greater clarity.

We don’t do family portraits very well. But we dance in the kitchen, we cry on the couch. We walk to the park and love to hang out. We fight a little. We laugh a lot. If ever there were an end to a rainbow, I have hit the jack pot.

Most importantly, we love.