A Move Right After Loss

I’ve had a lot of thoughts swirling about Rory’s death two years ago.

We’re approaching two years.

It’s like a different lifetime she was with us.

But also like I held her in my arms yesterday.

Time is weird.

We sold our house and bought a house three days before she died.

The house we were buying wasn’t in the area we were initially looking. And we kept saying but… And looking around again. And again.

In the end, we just kept being led to this community, this house.

Before we even moved, our Bishop contacted the Bishop of the church we were moving to across town.

With that call, we had people mourning with us, loving us, praying for us.

People that didn’t know us.

When we moved in, we were surrounded by love. Visits, hugs, baskets, dinners.

People we were meeting for the first time.

People that never had the opportunity to know our Rory.

They cried with us. They prayed with us. They held our hands through the hardest times in our lives.

Is this not the epitome of Christ-like love?

I’m so grateful my Heavenly Father knew what we were going to need.

He was aware of us.

He knew the love and patience we would need to be surrounded by.

He knew that we would need to love and serve ourselves.

He knew.

He knows.

He hasn’t forgotten us.

Not me.

Not you.

May you all feel surrounded by His love whether your life is shattered or it’s the happiest day of your life.

He loves each of us. Always.

It’s About Service, It’s About Love

Totes filled with donated school supplies.

One of the struggles when someone passes away is how do you keep them with you.

When someone does, they’re gone from everyday life. The concerns, the events, the joys, the sorrows, that person is no longer part of them.

Each member of my family has different ways that we include Rory in our everyday life. But one that we do as a family is her birthday service projects, which we turned into the Rory Ann Moore Foundation.

It’s a time we spend together. It’s a time we gather in her name.

Last night we sorted all the school supplies that were donated the last few months.

The boys were completely overwhelmed.

“Where did this all come from???”

They witnessed people dropping stuff off or see stuff come in the mail but to see it all together.

It brought tears to my eyes.

These were donated by people that loved Rory.

Donated by people that love our family.

Donated by people that have been touched by our story and the love we try to spread in Rory’s name.

I’m so happy to announce:

We surpassed our goal for school supplies!

If I said this a million times, it would never be enough.

Thank you!

Thank you for your love and support.

Thank you for reaching out.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

If you are still wanting to donate, we need the following food items to include in Rory’s Bags of Love: Goldfish, Cup of Noodles, and juice boxes. You can find details on the following page:


What Can I Do?

There are a couple of questions that I get asked quite a bit. One being:

What can I do for people who are grieving?

It’s a great question without an easy answer. Every grieving person is different. In fact, every grieving family member mourns differently.

But I think it boils down to two main things: show up with love and be patient.

Show up

Showing up will look different depending on the person grieving and the relationship you have with them.

Are you a Facebook friend or a best friend? Show up according to your familiarity with that person.

Show up with a dinner. That’s wonderful because food is the last thing a grieving person wants to think about.

Show up and sit on their couch with them. Listen. Express love. Let them tell stories of the deceased. Tell them stories of the deceased.

Show up with cards.

Show up with emails.

Show up at the funeral.

Show up with flowers.

Show up with treats.

Show up with hugs.

Show up well after the death. Your life moved on. Theirs didn’t. Show them their loved one isn’t forgotten.

When you show up, show up with patience and understanding.

Those of us grieving are messed up.

Our emotions are at the surface. There’s a really great chance we’re going to cry. If you can ride out that emotion with us, we’re grateful we had an opportunity to talk about our loved one. To connect with another in our mourning.

Be patient with planning. Each day brings difficulties with it. Be understanding if your grieving friend is late or has to cancel. If your grieving friend has a spouse or kids, he/she is trying to juggle other people’s grief and needs as well.

Be patient with responses. Especially right after the death, my phone exploded with messages and notes of love. I read each one, they were beautiful and I was grateful. But I didn’t have the energy to respond. Be understanding of their emotional and physical limitations.

My best advice:

Show up with zero expectations, bringing in all the love.

International Bereaved Mother’s Day

To the mom with an extra seat at the table.

To the mom with empty arms today.

To the mom with a vacant seat in the car.

To the mom with a hole in her heart.

To the mom who sobs on their birthday.

To the mom who clings to clothing late at night.

To the mom whose life never quite feels complete.

To the mom who makes it through each hour.

To the mom who holds tighter to those around.

To the mom who loves harder now.

To the mom who falls to her knees.

To the mom who finds strength somehow.

To the mom whose loss seems more than she can bear.

To the mom who stands each day anyway.

To my fellow bereaved mothers. Thank you for sharing your stories. I’m so sorry this is our journey. I see you. I love you. You make me feel less alone.

To those that love and support us. Thank you. Texting, prayers, drop by’s, treats, stories of our child, hugs, they sustain us and provide hope. We love you.


I watched an uplifting show this morning. It talked about “champions.”

One of the stories was about a young man that was in an accident. He was very badly hurt. In a coma for weeks.

People prayed around the clock for him.

The family held onto their faith in God.

The boy miraculously awoke. Not without struggles, but he awoke.

These “champion” stories get forwarded on social media. They get talked about on television.

These are miraculous stories of people that have overcome.

I would NEVER want a different outcome for them. I cried tears of gratitude with those parents that got to hug their son again.

That isn’t our story.

Ours isn’t the easy story to forward on.

Our story is loss.

But our story isn’t without faith and miracles either.

It’s a miracle our house sold 3 days before Rory passed away. We would have been frozen with grief to make decisions. And we were still there surrounded by those that knew and loved her and us.

It’s a miracle we found the house we did. We weren’t even looking in the Lehi area for a long time. We were directed to this neighborhood, full of loving and compassionate people.

It was a miracle she passed away in my arms. With her illness, she could have passed away silently in her sleep. Instead, I got to love her and hold her until the moment she left this world.

It’s a miracle that our family functions. There have so many days and weeks when I haven’t had energy. When I have felt the weight so heavily on my shoulders. I couldn’t get by without the miraculous help of my Heavenly Father. The pain is too all encompassing.

These are not the miracles I would have wanted. I want my daughter with me.

I miss her.

I love her.

Ours isn’t a story for Rory to overcome. It’s the story for all the rest of us left behind to overcome.

And there have been miracles.