Mojo and the Mess

If you’ve been following along for a while, you know I almost always have something to say. Whether it’s cancer, treatment, the realities of living with a body that doesn’t cooperate, or just trying to find pieces of joy in the middle of hard things, I’ve built this space around sharing honestly.

But this week, if I’m being truthful, it just hasn’t felt right.

It hasn’t felt right to write about myself. It hasn’t felt right to write cancer tips or treatment updates or any of the things I normally share.

Because my heart has been with Myranda.

Childhood cancer is cruel. There is no way to make it make sense. There are no perfect words that explain why a child should have to carry something so heavy. There are no answers that make it fair.

I’ve spent a lot of time this week thinking about her. Thinking about her love for her family, her dog, her singing, her TikToks, her ability to keep smiling through things that would break most adults. Thinking about how much life she still had left to live.

When I started Mojo and the Mess, I never really considered this part.

I knew sharing my journey would connect me with people walking similar roads. I knew there would be friendships. I knew there would be community.

What I didn’t think about was how much it would hurt to lose people.

I didn’t think about the fact that some of the people I would meet because of cancer would become people I genuinely loved.

People like Myranda.

The heartbreak of losing her is real. It hurts because she mattered. It hurts because she was more than a diagnosis. It hurts because she was a kid who should still be here.

But as hard as this week has been, I’ve also been reminded why I keep sharing.

I met Myranda because she was brave enough to tell her story.

She shared the hard parts. The scary parts. The real parts.

And because she did, our paths crossed.

That’s the beautiful thing about sharing our stories. Sometimes they find the exact people they’re meant to find.

So even though my heart is heavy, I’ll keep writing.

I’ll keep showing up.

Because somewhere out there is another person who needs to know they’re not alone, just like I needed that reminder when I found Myranda.

And if Heaven works the way I hope it does, I know Biggie was one of the first to greet her. I can picture him charging over with that goofy excitement, ready to play, ready to make a new friend.

For now, I’m holding her family close in my heart.

As many of you know, all sales from my book, merchandise, blog support, and donations are being sent directly to Myranda’s family. This isn’t about fundraising as much as it is about showing up for people who are carrying an unimaginable loss.

Thank you for loving her with me.

Rest easy, sweet girl. You were loved far more than you’ll ever know.