Frozen in Time, And Still Changing Lives

A Photo on the Fridge: Grief, Growth, and the Power of Mentorship

The Unchanging Image

I walk past my fridge dozens of times a day, barely noticing the snapshots of life mounted to its surface: school photos of my kids, their cousins, and friends. Each one marks passing years, growth, and small changes. But there’s one photo that never changes: Maddie’s Grade 8 graduation portrait.

Maddie isn’t just a moment stuck in time; her picture is a presence. She’s standing there with braces, bright eyes, school blazer, and a loosely tied necktie, full of life and potential. The fridge, with her frozen smile among shifting photos, has become a quiet metaphor for life’s journey; its struggles, triumphs, and fragility.

Living With Her Memory

Often, I stop mid-chaos, mid-coffee brew, or mid-late-night snack and allow myself to really see her, just for a moment. My home isn’t a shrine, but Maddie’s presence is unmistakable. While the rest of the photos evolve, Zac is now working full-time in his first “real job,” and Sawyer is starting his third year in Halifax this September, Maddie stays fourteen forever. Everything gets older. Hell, I’m going to be 60 in August. Yet Maddie will always be frozen in time on my fridge.

A Legacy That Lives On

More than ten years since her passing, her legacy hasn’t faded. In fact, it’s flourished. Zac and Sawyer have channelled Maddie’s spirit into becoming passionate youth mental health advocates. Psychologists and reports confirm the urgency of their work: between 2019 and 2023, Canadian youth aged 12 to 21 rating their mental health as “fair” or “poor” more than doubled, from 12% to 26%. Alarmingly, Ontario high-schoolers report moderate-to-serious levels of distress at 39%, with 17% indicating severe distress.

That makes the work of the boys personal and powerful. They’re fighting something that’s already touching 1.2 million Canadian youth, of whom only about 20% ever receive the help they need.

Carrying the Light Forward

Their efforts go far beyond remembering Maddie; they’re saving others. And that makes her memory eternally relevant.

Yes, life moves on. The fridge gallery will continue to grow: weddings, graduations, and grandkids. But Maddie’s photo, forever smiling at fourteen, will always be there. Her image serves as a poignant reminder of love and loss. A reminder that even as time races forward, some moments never leave us. Some people never do.

Why Mentorship Matters for Teens

And it makes me think… what if we gave teens a space to be real before it was too late?

See, relationships with parents often go off the rails, not out of malice, but out of misalignment. Growing pains. Autonomy. Boundaries. All of it’s normal, but it’s rarely easy. Especially when you’re not sure if your parent is your safe place or your probation officer. They want you to talk, but when you do, there’s a good chance it backfires. The trust gets blurry. The consequences come fast. And suddenly, opening up feels like a trap, not a relief.

That’s why mentorship matters.

A Bridge Between Parenting and Therapy

It’s not therapy. It’s not parenting. It’s the bridge in between, a place where teens can be heard without fear of being “fixed,” where honesty isn’t punished, and vulnerability isn’t a liability. It’s a space where someone listens first, guides second. Someone who gets that sometimes, you need to say it out loud without worrying about what happens next.

Sound familiar?

Mentorship gave my boys a way to carry Maddie’s light forward. It gave them purpose, direction, and space to grow into who they are, not who we expected them to be. It can do the same for other teens, too.

Perhaps what young people need most isn’t a solution, but a safe space.

And for that, through grief, activism, and growth, I am profoundly grateful.