I have grieved throughout all of 2025; almost every day, I had tears in my eyes. Returning to Denver after missing six years with my grandkids, plus getting married and sharing my past 20 years of Colorado life with Steve, in addition to all the other challenging ordeals I had to face this year, I feel raw and vulnerable.

Grief truly never goes away. It bubbles up at the most inconvenient times, totally out of nowhere, and burns through your soul deep into the night.

I am the very last of a small family. Only my oldest son and two grandkids remain of the Marshall/McDonald family. I have lost all the others over the years, but their legacy lives on in me.

My generosity, love of cooking, and crafting come from my sweet Grandma, who lived with us until her last breath at 90.

My love of adventure and desire to see the world come from my amazing and beautiful Mom who lived until 92.

My thirst for knowledge, continual learning, and perfection comes from my gentle and kind Dad who was cut down too early at 59.

And my fighting spirit comes from protecting my youngest son Justin, a 2 1/2-month-old baby trapped in a man’s body, for his entire 29 years.

Grief is a double-edged sword. It brings up sweet memories from the depths of your soul, like a moment in time you want to return to. Then, in a flash, you remember it’s not real, just a painful flashback.

I cherish it all and will deal with the grief if it lets me remember my wonderful family as they were in my life.

What an amazing life I have had. Thank you, God, for every joy and painful thing I have survived. It made life all worthwhile.