Am I Still Here?
One year ago, my life split in two. There was the world before Danny got sick and the world after he died. Today would have been his forty second birthday. It is also the exact day we held his services last year. Grief has a strange way of circling back to these dates and asking us to look at ourselves again. “Am I still here”? Those were Danny’s last words to me. At the time, I did not understand how those four words would stay with me long after he was gone.
In the first months after losing him, I kept repeating those words quietly to myself. Not because I questioned my own physical presence, but because I was trying to understand who I was supposed to become without him. For twenty years, Danny was my partner, my friend, the father of my son, and the safe place I came home to. When he died from a rare bile duct cancer, everything felt unfamiliar. The house felt different. My routines felt different. Even the way light fell in certain rooms made me stop and hold my breath.
For a long time, I moved through the days in a haze. Grief changes you in ways you do not expect. It pulls apart who you were and forces you to rebuild slowly and intentionally. There is no quick way through it and there is no returning to what life was before. What surprised me most was the small places where I found comfort again. A corner of my home that felt peaceful. A color palette that calmed me. The ritual of making a room feel warm and safe. I did not know it at the time, but I was creating a new version of home for myself and for my son. I was learning how to stay grounded when everything else felt unsteady.
Over the past year, interior design and the entire world of home, beauty, and wellness became more than hobbies. They became lifelines. They gave me moments of creativity when the rest of the day felt heavy. They reminded me that beauty still exists even when life feels messy. They helped me shape a space that reflected the woman I am becoming, not just the woman who survived the hardest chapter of her life.
This blog is a part of that new beginning. It is a place for me to share my love for home design, decorating, wellness, beauty, and everyday comfort. A place to talk about creating a home that supports your healing, taking care of your body and mind, and finding products that truly make your life better. Some things I share will be simple. Some will be deeply personal. All of them will be honest.
I will share the home design choices that helped me feel grounded again. I will share the wellness products and routines that supported me when my stress was at its highest. I will share the small but meaningful things that helped me navigate grief while still being a mother and a woman trying to rediscover herself. Some links on this blog will be Amazon affiliate links. They help support this space and allow me to keep building something that feels purposeful. Every recommendation I share is something I use, trust, or believe can genuinely add value to your home or your life.
If you are here, thank you. Thank you for reading the first chapter of this new beginning and for giving me a place to share what I have learned about loss, healing, and building something beautiful out of brokenness. Danny asked me if he was still here. In many ways he is. He is in the strength I found when I had none. He is in the love that shaped our family. He is in the courage it takes for me to write this today.
And I am still here too. Learning. Creating. Healing. Turning this space into something warm and welcoming. A place called Haven.
Welcome to Haven 34 & Co.