So Grief, Anger and Empathy Walk Into a Bar...

If you’ve ever faced the unimaginable, you know grief doesn’t follow a script. It doesn’t arrive quietly, and it doesn’t leave when asked. It drags in unexpected guests like anger and empathy. They settle in, creating a complicated, often contradictory emotional mix.

I don’t have all the answers, but I do understand how these emotions collide, and maybe, how they learn to coexist.

The Day Grief Moved In

When I lost my daughter Maddie on April 11, 2015, my world shattered. She was just 14. One day she was laughing, smiling, full of life. The next, she was gone.

They say time heals all wounds. It doesn’t. Time only teaches you to carry them differently. You don’t ever get over a loss like that. You learn to live around it.

In those early days, grief was constant. It sat heavy on my chest. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. Functioning felt impossible.

There’s no manual for losing a child. No rules for how to put yourself back together when every part of you is broken. But even in the devastation, other emotions crept in.

When Anger Shows Up Uninvited

Anger came crashing in without knocking. Anger at the world for letting this happen. At schools that fail to teach mental wellness in meaningful ways. At myself for not knowing how to save her.

It was sharp and destructive. I became bitter and short-tempered. I asked questions that had no answers. Why didn’t more people understand teenage depression? Why were schools sitting on the sidelines? Why were so many parents unwilling to listen?

Back then, writing was my release. I wrote about Maddie, about what we went through. It was the only way I could process the anger and sadness. It gave shape to the chaos inside me.

Enter Empathy, the Unexpected Friend

Empathy arrived quietly. It came through messages from other parents, each facing their own heartbreak. Some had lost children. Others lived in constant fear of it. Their stories softened me.

I began to see that I wasn’t alone in this pain. Over time, I connected with parents around the world who had turned their grief into purpose. They had lost sons, daughters, siblings, and friends. Their strength helped me find my voice again.

The anger didn’t leave, but it made room for empathy. And I learned that both could exist at the same time.

Turning Pain Into Purpose

That’s when things started to shift for me.

I stopped trying to just survive and started trying to make a difference. I joined initiatives like HowAreYouFeeling, teaching kids to understand their emotions before they reach a breaking point. Watching them learn how to express what they felt gave me hope.

But when schools resisted these programs, my anger resurfaced. It became clear that real change wouldn’t come from waiting. It would come from parents, advocates, and communities demanding better for our kids.

That became my mission, to push for change, to speak for Maddie, and to make sure fewer families live through the same heartbreak.

Finding Balance in the Chaos

Grief, anger, and empathy still live with me. Some days, anger takes over. Other days, empathy does. Most days, I just try to balance the two.

This path has never been straight. It’s twisted, turned, and tested me. But it’s also brought clarity. These emotions aren’t enemies. They’re part of the same fight, to make sure kids like Maddie get the support they need before it’s too late.

Let’s Make It Personal

If you’ve felt this pain, you’re not alone. If you’ve lost someone, or you’re afraid you might, I understand. These emotions can become the foundation for something better.

That’s what happened with me.

Out of grief came a purpose. A reason to make sure no child feels unseen or unheard. That purpose became The MentorWell.

It’s a place where teens and young adults can find someone to talk to. Someone who listens. Someone who cares. Someone who helps them find direction and strength before things fall apart.

It’s about connection, the kind that might have helped Maddie. The kind that can help another family today.

This isn’t about fixing the past. It’s about shaping the future, one conversation at a time.

So let’s keep going. Let’s turn our pain into purpose. And let’s make sure every young person has someone who truly sees them.