My Journey

My name is Stacy, and my journey with grief is also a journey through trauma. It became profoundly personal when my brother passed away unexpectedly at the age of 37. A year later, I experienced the deepest heartbreak a mother can face when my oldest son, Coty, died by suicide at just 24 years old. Four years later, I lost my mother after her long battle with COPD. These losses did more than break my heart—they unsettled my sense of safety, certainty, and the world I thought I understood. Grief did not come alone; it arrived with shock, fear, unanswered questions, and the lasting imprint of trauma.

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Within that same decade, I also endured the passing of two grandmothers, two grandfathers, three uncles, and an aunt. While each loss added its own weight, the heart of my story rests in the profound grief and trauma of losing my son, my brother, and my mother in such a short span of time. These experiences reshaped how I understand strength, meaning, and healing. In the deepest valleys, faith became a steady presence for me—sometimes quiet, sometimes wrestled with, but always offering something to hold onto when the ground beneath me felt uncertain.

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Walking through grief layered with trauma taught me that healing is not linear and that survival itself can feel like an act of courage. It also taught me that faith and hope can exist alongside pain, doubt, and unanswered questions. This understanding now shapes the work I do and how I walk alongside others. I offer compassion, presence, and space for both grief and trauma to be honored together, grounded in grace and respect for each person’s beliefs and experience. My hope is to remind others that even after devastating loss, life can continue with meaning, hope, and connection—without erasing the love or the pain that shaped them. The love my son, my brother, and my mother gave me is at the heart of why I chose to pursue grief and trauma coaching.

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My role is not to lead or push, but to gently meet you where you are. I offer a safe, compassionate space grounded in care, understanding, and faith-informed support when it is welcomed. You do not have to have the answers, and you do not have to carry this alone. I am here to walk beside you as you find your way forward—one breath, one step, and one moment at a time.

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...I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow.

-Jeremiah 31:13