Love Like Justice Blog & News

Finding Purpose in the Pain: How Gratitude for Justice's Lights Transformed My Grief

Sun, 12 May 2024 03:19:32 GMT

Know that you are not alone

In the darkest moments of our lives, we often find ourselves searching for a glimmer of hope, a beacon to guide us through the unbearable pain. For me, that beacon was Love Like Justice Company and Justice's Lights on the Bell Street Bridge in Glendive, Montana, a dream that blossomed in the wake of my child, Justice's, passing. This is a story not just of grief and loss but of transformation, purpose, and the incredible power of giving back.

A Dream Awakens

It began with a dream, both literally and metaphorically. In the days following Justice's departure from this world, I found myself adrift in a sea of sorrow, where sleep was my only escape. Yet, it was during these fleeting moments of rest that a vision began to take shape—a vision of creating something that would not only serve as a tribute to Justice's memory but also offer solace to others navigating the tumultuous waves of grief.

The Journey of Hard Work

Turning that vision into reality was no easy feat. It required an immense amount of hard work, dedication, and perseverance. There were days when the weight of my loss seemed too much to bear, making even the simplest tasks feel insurmountable. But with each step forward, I found a sense of purpose slowly weaving its way through my grief, strengthening my resolve to push through the challenges.

Struggle Shapes Purpose

The path was fraught with obstacles, both expected and unforeseen. There were moments of mental exhaustion that loomed large, threatening to extinguish the fledgling light of hope that had begun to flicker within me. Yet, it was through these struggles that my purpose became crystal clear. Love Like Justice and Justice's Lights was no longer just a dream; it had become my mission—a way to honor my child's life by helping others find their way through the darkness of loss.

Healing Through Giving Back

What started as a personal project quickly evolved into something much larger than I had anticipated. Justice's Light became a beacon for grieving parents and individuals seeking inspiration amidst despair. Through this initiative, I discovered the profound healing power of giving back. Each story shared, every life touched by Justice's Lights, added another layer of healing, gradually mending the shattered pieces of my heart.

Gratitude as a Foundation

Amidst the pain, gratitude emerged as a foundational pillar of my journey. I am grateful for the time I had with Justice, for the dream that ignited a spark of hope in my darkest hour, and for the opportunity to help others through their grief. This gratitude has not only helped me heal but has also transformed my perspective on loss and purpose.

A Message to Others

To those who are walking through the valley of grief, know that you are not alone. Your pain is valid, and your feelings are justified. But within your sorrow lies the potential for profound transformation. Allow yourself to dream, struggle, and find your unique purpose. Healing is a journey, not a destination, and it is often through helping others that we find our way back to light.

Justice's Lights stands as a testament to my child's enduring spirit and the resilience of the human heart. It reminds us that even in our deepest despair, we can find purpose, hope, and a reason to keep moving forward.

In sharing this story, I hope it may offer a glimmer of hope to those in need, a reminder that out of grief can come growth, purpose, and a legacy that shines brightly in honor of those we’ve lost.

To Give Love

Mon, 25 Sep 2023 03:14:22 GMT

...tomorrow is never guaranteed...

Our family has always had a deep love for animals. In fact, Justice rescued a dog just days before her passing. About a year later, Cruz and I began working at Happy Tails, an animal rescue in Glendive. It brought us so much joy to help care for all the cats, hoping each one would find a loving home.

We also made it a point to provide food and heated shelters for homeless cats in our backyard. Last year, a curious kitty named Peeping Tom showed up, and on extremely cold nights, we would coax him inside for a warm place to sleep. Little did we know, our act of kindness seemed to attract more furry visitors. Another tom cat, whom we named Blonde, also started showing up. Blonde adored the food and love from humans much more than timid Peeping Tom.

As the summer went on, Peeping Tom eventually moved on, but Blonde continued to stick around. He would lounge on our outdoor furniture, patiently waiting for breakfast at the sliding glass door each morning. I've been trying to find Blonde a forever home, as I don't want to become known as the "crazy cat lady." However, with Darren being home more often now after harvest, and his love for animals surpassing even mine, Blonde has been receiving an abundance of affection. Darren even lets him inside from time to time.

One morning, Darren woke up to find Blonde peering through the bedroom sliding glass door, hoping for food and love. Without hesitation, Darren opened the door, inviting Blonde in to cuddle on the bed. In that moment, it was as if Blonde had found his own personal heaven. I took a few pictures and posted them on Snapchat, and my step-daughter, Paige, commented on how happy it makes her to see a stray cat finding a place where it is truly loved.

I shared with Paige just how sweet Blonde is and how it seems he appreciates us far more than our other cats who have never experienced the hardships of being homeless and unloved. Blonde understands what it feels like to go hungry, to yearn for affection from humans, and to have no place to call home. This is why, when he receives love, it resonates deeply within him.

This made me reflect on the similarities with humans. Those who have never experienced great loss may not fully comprehend how quickly life can change, how tomorrow is never guaranteed, and how the people we cherish may no longer be with us. It is through these profound experiences that we learn to appreciate life at a much deeper level, for we understand that everything can change in the blink of an eye.

That's why Love Like Justice's mission is significant to me. It serves as a reminder to be kind, cherish life, and show love to both humans and animals, just as Justice did. It also emphasizes the importance of embracing the present and not taking tomorrow for granted. So, express your love, create memories, and live a purposeful life. In the end, Blonde's experience reminds us to love and appreciate every single day. Life is fragile, and to make the most of it, we must recognize its beauty in simpler things like the unconditional love of a furry friend. Let's choose to show affection and kindness, creating a ripple effect of love. That's what I want to leave behind, and that's why Love Like Justice is important. Together, let's practice self-love, spread compassion, and cultivate a kinder world for everyone.

How do I stop worrying about somebody dying?

Tue, 24 Jan 2023 03:32:33 GMT

I know overcoming my fear will take so much work

I have spent my life worrying about things I can't control. I remember being a little girl and worrying my parents would die in an accident. I remember numerous times staring out the living room window just waiting to see the lights of my dad's pickup driving down our country road toward our house. Once seeing his lights, I would instantly relax, knowing he was safe and just about home. I have no idea where this fear came from, but I can't remember a time in my life when this fear didn't exist within me.

So after my dad died, the fear of another loved one dying significantly intensified. I didn't worry about my death, but a loved one's death terrified me. I can't even count the number of times I was sure Darren died in an accident because he wouldn't answer his phone (only because he was out of phone service), and I mentally would start to prepare myself for the next steps of my life. I would prepare myself for being told the news, then telling our kids, then planning his funeral and figuring out life moving forward, just like my mom had to do. I hated it when my mind would start spinning out with these thoughts, but nothing would stop it until I heard Darren's voice.

After Justice died, I realized I never let myself think about my kids dying, I worried they were going to die, but I never let my thoughts go any further. I did not allow myself to spin out and plan my actions if such a tragedy happened; I just couldn't go there.

I often feel sorry Darren had to deal with my fears for many years. It doesn't help that Darren is a farmer and rancher, just like my dad, and his days can be so dangerous. The long hours, large equipment, dealing with the unpredictability of livestock and Mother Nature, lots of driving, and the lack of sleep always made me worry even more!

So after Justice died, and I was analyzing life, I realized how much time I had spent worrying about the possibility of a loved one dying, but it didn't stop them from dying; it just stopped me from living and sleeping regularly. I think of how many hundreds of hours I have lost worrying about everything I can't control. So now that I have realized this problem, how do I stop myself from worrying? It seems like a legitimate fear to worry about, especially with the events in my past. This fear has sabotaged my life, crippling me from living in the moment.

I know overcoming my fear will take so much work, but I can do it, and awareness is the first step. In the future, I will try my hardest to focus on the things I can control and not let myself spin out on the things that are out of my control. I will control how I react to situations, emotions, attitude, thoughts, and actions. I can control all of this, and I am now aware of how I choose to live.

So today, I will start to live without worry and be more mindful of my thoughts.

To learn more about Love Like Justice, check out our website. You can purchase an item or donate money directly to Justice's Foundation on the website. In her memory, all proceeds go to Justice Foundation to light up the Historic Bell Street Bridge.

Somedays Are More Painful Than Others

Mon, 23 May 2022 03:07:09 GMT

I asked why a lot, but I was not angry at the universe

Every year during graduation, my mind will probably start spinning a little with all of my memories and wishes for Justice's future. Justice's graduation day was on May 24, 2020; it was during Covid, so Justice didn't have a party with her family; her grandparents and siblings could not be there to watch Justice get her diploma.

There was a sadness to this day, yet so much excitement for Justice and her classmate's future. I kept the card I wrote to Justice on this day and read it every once in a while, so I thought I would share it with all of you.

"I am so proud of you, my sweet Justice! This time in a person's life is so exciting; the possibilities are endless. Sometimes people don't have it all figured out right away and that is ok too. I know there will come a day that you do and you will work hard to follow your dreams.
I hope you have fun (but not too much) and make the best memories. I also hope you find a passion you love and pursue what makes you happy.
Be true to yourself and love the person you are on the inside and out.
Love, Mom"

Darren added this to the bottom of the card, which I remember Justice laughing about...

"I'm very proud of you! And ditto to everything mom said! Love, Dad"

One month and one day later, Justice was killed in an accident and all of my hopes for the future died that day too.

The next time we were on this football field where Justice graduated was the day of Justice's funeral. I remember thinking, I need to get through the funeral and tomorrow, I will check myself into a mental hospital.

I never did go into that mental hospital because I realized it couldn't bring Justice back to me. I also chose not to be put on any anti-depressants because I knew someday I would have to get off of them, and no matter what, Justice would still be dead. So I struggled every day to find peace in my heart and feel normal again.

When I look back at all of this, I realize that I never got mad; I asked why a lot, but I was not angry at the universe. I felt like Justice was needed for something greater than I would ever understand. I remember telling myself this a lot because I couldn't understand why my kid, which was so amazing, could be taken from this earth. It was the only explanation that made sense to me.

There is still so much I don't understand about death and the grieving process, but I am forever grateful that I am slowly healing. I will never be that person I was on the day of Justice's graduation with all of those hopes and dreams for her future. But I will continue to live this life with purpose and dig deep to move forward with my new hopes and dreams because the day I die, I don't want to regret that I let my fears and sadness overcome what I could have been.

April 17, 1998

Mon, 18 Apr 2022 02:58:48 GMT

be the friend that prays for people behind their back

As I sit here reflecting on life, our mid-April snowstorm, and Easter Sunday, I can't help but think about my dad. He died on April 17th, 1998, after a mid-April snowstorm. Before his death, he worked so hard to keep the cows and calves alive and fed through the calving season. My dad was not afraid of a long hard day of work; he took pride in his strength and work ethic; there was certainly nothing lazy about him.

The last time I ever saw my dad was on Easter Sunday; he came into the house to eat dinner with us, holding a bouquet of crocus flowers he hand-picked out in the pasture. I remember him looking so exhausted, but I admired how he still took the time to do something kind for my mother.

Four days later, my dad was gone, killed in a tractor accident. My dad's traumatic death changed everything within me. Our lives, family, and ranch changed forever.

My dad had one of the largest funerals Glendive, Montana has ever seen. The size of his funeral didn't accidentally happen; it was because my dad was a man of great integrity. He was a best friend to many; his laughter and jokes lit up a room. My dad impacted so many people's lives around him because of his charisma and how he made people feel. I quickly learned that you can't take anything with you when you die, but what you leave behind in the memories can be beautiful.

My dad did not care about his possessions, the materialistic things in life; he cared about his relationships with people. He could make people feel loved, heard, and important; without even trying. He was naturally gifted with greatness when it came to people.

I recently saw a quote saying, be the friend that prays for people behind their back; it reminded me of my dad!

I want to be this person.

As I began crawling out of the depths of grief after my dad's death, I became stronger as a person. I realized that I needed to live a life of purpose. I wanted to make a difference in this world in which I exist. The day I die, I want to look back on my life and smile because I made a difference.

At the age of twenty-three, my dad's death taught me...

Tomorrow is not a guarantee for anybody.
Death can break you if you let it.
Dream big and follow your passion.
Find happiness.
Work hard and be proud of what you accomplish
Have fun and enjoy the moments in life.
Death is a teacher.
People will remember how you made them feel.

Now twenty-four years later, what I learned from Justice's death...

A soul never dies; their energy surrounds us.
Slow down and feel the emotions instead of running from them.
Work smarter, not harder.
It's okay to take time for myself.
Avoid people who have negative vibes.
Trust my intuition.
Make my home a place of happiness and tranquility.
Believe.
Love people for who they are and have compassion and understanding for their differences, but if they don't have a good heart...run!!!
Not everybody will like me, and that is okay.
I will never be perfect.
It's okay to cry in public.

~Angie

The World Through My Eyes

Mon, 21 Feb 2022 03:52:00 GMT

would I have even understood the lesson to its true magnitude?

I wish you could see life through my eyes. Today, as I was shopping at a department store, I saw a mom impatient with her daughter and the shopping situation. The daughter was super sweet, and I could tell she was trying to calm her mom down, but it only made the mom more frustrated. As I watched the mom and daughter interact, I wanted so badly to ask the mom to slow down and enjoy her time with her child. I wanted to tell her I would do anything to be shopping for shoes with my daughter on that day. I wanted that mom to look at the world from my eyes, and I was hoping it would change her perspective on that day and teach her what a gift her time with her daughter truly was at that moment.

I have been in that mother's shoes before, so stressed out about life, motherhood, and the endless list of things to do. I wish I could have slowed down enough to enjoy the moments more than I did. I wonder, if a person would have tried to give me advice, would I have even understood the lesson to its true magnitude? Would I have let the person's words sink in and change me?

I was trying to decide if I told the lady to enjoy the time with her daughter, if she would have or if I would have just irritated her more? If I would have said, I wish I could be in your shoes right now, shopping with my daughter, but I can't because my daughter is dead, so please take a big breathe and appreciate what you have right here, right now at this moment. But I didn't say this because I started crying right there in the shoe department. Uncontrollable tears while shopping; this is undoubtedly an experience I have encountered many times since Justice passed. At that moment, I knew if I had even tried to open my mouth, the lady wouldn't have been able to understand my words through my sobs. So I walked out of the store with my head down, fighting back my tears.

I cried because I could have tried to make that lady's day more meaningful. I cried because I wasn't strong enough at that moment to speak from my heart. I cried because Justice's death taught me so much. I cried because I wanted another chance to do everything all over again, but with my new perspective. I cried because I missed Justice.

I wish I could have been a calmer person when raising my children. I wish I wouldn't have made work and a clean house a priority. I wish I appreciated the little things to the level I do now. Although I can't spend my life looking back, I need to look forward to how I will embrace this gift of the true meaning of life at a level I would have never been able to feel until Justice died. Justice death gave me this gift, and I will forever embrace it.

So I hope the mom at the Dillard's store in Billings, Montana, and all moms out there read my blog and learn from the life lessons taught to me. I hope people can learn to deal with the stress in their lives differently and find joy in all the moments given to us.

Please go to lovelikejustice.com to follow more of the Love Like Justice story. Buy Love Like Justice merchandise and wear it proudly; all proceeds go toward the Justice Foundation to light up the Historic Bell Street Bridge in Glendive, Montana, in memory of Justice Hagen.

You can also donate directly to Justice's Foundation on the Love Like Justice website.

The Dance

Mon, 07 Feb 2022 03:44:45 GMT

I chose to live my life and not let my fears stop me from happiness

Shortly after my dad died, I remember telling Darren that I never wanted to love anybody ever again. My thought process was that if I never allowed myself to love, I could protect myself from never being hurt or having someone ripped out of my life because of death. If I chose not to fall in love with people, I could save myself from heartache. Meaning I would not allow myself to live because I would let my fears control me. Darren did not always know what to say or do while I grieved, but I will never forget what Darren told me that day; he repeated the lyrics to the Garth Brooks song, "The Dance." He probably didn't have it exact, but I got the message loud and clear.

Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared 'neath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end, the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss the dance

Holding you, I held everything
For a moment wasn't I the king
If I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey, who's to say, you know I might have changed it all

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end, the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss the dance

If our lives are better left to chance
Oh, our lives are better left to chance
Oh, our lives are better left to chance

I could have missed the pain
But I'd have had to miss the dance

~ The Dance by Garth Brooks

I have thought of this song many times since Justice died, and I am glad I didn't know how it would end. I often think of how my life was perfect, and I didn't even know how great it was until my heart shattered into a million pieces. I am glad I chose to live my life and not let my fears stop me from happiness. If I had decided to run all those years ago, I maybe wouldn't have had the pain, but the love and the memories are such a priceless gift. Knowing what I know now, I would still choose to do it all over again.

The Magic is in the Journey

Mon, 31 Jan 2022 03:38:35 GMT

If we don't enjoy the journey of getting someplace, what is the point of even starting the journey?

Journey, I love this word; it's one of my favorites! It reminds me of our life's adventure and all of the great things that can happen as we live our lives to their fullest. I love this word so much; if Cruz had been a girl, he would have been named Journey, but instead, our first German Shepherd got the name, and it was perfect for her.

Recently, I had to sit back and process the statement that "magic is in the journey" because I was getting stressed out with Love LIke Justice. I wasn't enjoying the process of building this company. Instead, I let myself get too stressed out about the overall goal and how quickly I could reach it. I forgot to enjoy the moments and what Love Like Justice has given me through my grief journey.

Love Like Justice was not intended to bring stress into my life; it was supposed to help me work through my struggles with grief, keep Justice's memory alive, remind people to live their lives to their fullest, and with the money, do great things that would make Justice proud. But instead, I got wrapped up in proving that I could build this successful company and was focusing on the wrong mission, and I forgot to enjoy the moments that truly mattered most.

If we don't enjoy the journey of getting someplace, what is the point of even starting the journey? I am so grateful for this reminder to be mindful and aware of the moments that bring me joy, to celebrate my successes and all of my lessons learned. I can easily let myself get wrapped up in the goals, so I have to always be aware and grateful for the people in my world and the moments that matter the most.

Before being reminded to enjoy the journey, I almost gave up on Love Like Justice! At one time, I remember telling a friend that I wish LLJ never existed because that would mean that Justice would still be alive. There have been a lot of times that my emotions were very high, and I questioned if I had made the right decision in starting the company. I finally realized that LLJ would grow at its own pace. There is a reason why Amy wrote Love Like Justice at the Justice Art Alley; there is also a reason why the vision of the Love Like Justice Company came into my thoughts. I just need to stop stressing about reaching my goals and enjoy what it has become.

I hope this message encourages all of you to enjoy the magic in your journey as well. Sometimes, I truly think that we need to slow ourselves down enough to pay attention to all of the gifts and lessons in our life. We need to put our phones down and be still long enough to think about what gives us joy and be grateful for those moments.

Leaving A Legacy

Thu, 26 Aug 2021 02:25:21 GMT

"She made everyone in a room feel like an equal, and I strive to be as down-to-earth and open as she was"

The ideas that go through my head every month for a blog seem to be never-ending. Then typically, something happens, and I just know this will be my blog that I post for the month. So last night, as I was going to bed, I read a message from a classmate of Justice's; it was beautiful and brought me to tears. It also made me think about life, death, and the legacy we leave.

"I debated for the last year if I wanted to share this or not because I was not as close to Justice as I used to be. But growing up in the same class as her, I can truly say that I was honored to know her. I got this tattoo as a reminder to myself to be more like her every day. It didn't matter if you were the most popular person in school or the quiet kid in the back that no one knew; Justice would have said hello and treated that person like her best friend. She made everyone in a room feel like an equal, and I strive to be as down-to-earth and open as she was. She never judged a person and treated everyone with such kindness! At a hard time in my life, Justice was there for me in a quiet way that I will always be grateful for. She didn't need to plaster it all over, but she was there for me, doing sweet and nice things, not expecting anything in return! She is truly missed."

From Ariana

After reading this, the pride I felt for my daughter was immeasurable. I always knew the daughter I was raising looked at the world with the most amazing eyes and heart. It makes me so happy that the people around Justice also saw or felt her compassion and love. I always knew Justice would change the world; after she died, I thought all of my dreams for her were over. As I sit here typing my story, I am realizing, Justice's love for people and animals will continue to live on and change people forever.

This last year, I have thought of life and death so much; this message about Justice made me dig even deeper into the lives we live. When we are gone, how do we want to be remembered? What legacy do we want to leave?

Before Justice died, I thought of a person's legacy, and money always came to mind. A legacy is how people remember you; it doesn't have to be about how much money you gave to charities, although that is a great legacy to leave. It can also be the way you choose to live your life and treat others. Justice didn't have much money to leave for her legacy, but she did leave a legacy of compassion and kindness.

Justice's legacy will live on through the way she made people feel. Justice chose to go the extra mile to extend compassion to others. Love Like Justice would have never happened if Justice didn't choose to live a life of kindness and grace while making an impact on people's lives.

People can live 100 years and not make a difference in people's lives like Justice did in her short 18 years. Justice was nowhere close to perfect, but she was real. She was kind, and her heart was bigger than her life on earth.

So my question to you is, what type of legacy do you want to leave? How do you want to be remembered, and how are you going to make it happen? Tomorrow is not a guarantee, so get busy leaving your mark on this world and remember to Love Like Justice.

Kintsugi

Tue, 27 Jul 2021 02:16:59 GMT

This is a subtitle for your new post

Six weeks after Justice passed and trying to figure out my new life, I wrote this and sent it to Darren.

It feels like our hearts are so fragile and made of glass. One day when life was perfect, somebody ripped into our chest, grabbed our hearts, and shattered them to the ground. Now our job is to pick up all of the pieces of our hearts and glue them back together. I know we will never find all of the glass from our original heart, and the new hearts we put together will never be what they once were before losing our daughter. We now need to build our new hearts with the strongest glue. From time to time, as life goes on, we will sometimes find something shining on the floor, and we will realize it is a piece of glass from our old hearts. As we pick up the broken shard of glass, we will need to be extremely careful because the glass will cut so deep.

We have now spent a year building our new hearts and our new lives. The pain we have endured I would not wish upon anybody. I have learned so much about myself; as I had to rebuild my new broken, imperfect heart. I had to think about what type of heart I wanted for the rest of my life? What kind of person did I want to become?

That is when I came across the term "Kintsugi" during my meditation one morning. Kintsugi is a Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold. The gold used to mend the break embraces the flaw or imperfection and turns the broken into a unique piece of art.

Instead of using glue to mend my broken heart, I would use gold and turn my once broken and imperfect heart into something beautiful. So I decided to start Love Like Justice; I can give back and spread a great message. Love Like Justice is a way for me to have a voice, help people look at the world differently, give hope to people grieving, bringing joy and beauty into people's lives.

The Things We Do For Love

Sat, 26 Jun 2021 02:09:56 GMT

As I stood in front of hundreds of people sharing these words

Shortly after Justice died, we started planning her funeral; when asked who would give Justice's eulogy, we were clueless. We had no idea who we could ask to do something so important to us. Who could possibly talk about our child with as much love as I could? I decided the only person who could do the eulogy was me.

I sat down and wrote my daughter's eulogy on June 28, three days after Justice died. Three days after our lives, our family and future changed forever. I hope I made Justice proud as I shared Justice's life and personality with everyone who loved her.

As I stood in front of hundreds of people sharing these words, I remember feeling like an out-of-body experience. I hadn't slept or eaten food in days. The reality of Justice's death still didn't seem possible, but I knew it was true. I remember thinking, I needed to get through this day and then possibly the next day check myself into a mental hospital.

I never went to a hospital or did any drugs for depression or anxiety. I just dug deep and went into survival mode and focused on getting through each day. As I look back, I feel like I survived with grace. I hated when people would tell me how strong I was; I thought at the time, I had no choice. Although I think about the strength it took to get me to this point, I am proud of the person I have become.

On the first anniversary without my baby girl, I have decided to share Justice's eulogy with all of you.

First Heavenly Birthday

Wed, 26 May 2021 02:04:33 GMT

Although you have not followed the path I thought you would have, you have followed your path

Most Birthdays are considered a celebration of life, and I agree with this 100%, but Justice's Birthdays were different for me. I cried every single year on her Birthday. I would always tell her the story of her birth, and she loved every little detail. I would tell her how I was worried I would be a bad mom and not love her because my pregnancy was so surreal to me, and I didn't feel connected to my pregnant belly. Then Justice would giggle when I would tell her how I fell in love with her the second I held her in my arms and how she rocked my world to its core.

Even though I was sad on Justice's Birthday, we still had fun. I was just sad because she was growing older so quickly. I cried because the time with her was moving too fast. I wanted her to stay little forever; I wanted to enjoy every minute with her. Except, I also loved watching her grow up and become more independent; this is probably a struggle every parent deals with in some way or another. I share all of this because looking back on Justice's life, I feel I had an inner knowing that Justice's life would be short, and I wouldn't get many birthdays with her.

In 2020, Justice graduated high school and turned 18 years old the next day. For a month before her graduation and Birthday, I was a mess. I even talked to my life coach about my emotions and how to get through the fact that Justice grew up and would soon be moving on. She reminded me that life was a beautiful journey, and I needed to find happiness for Justice and not focus on my sadness, so that is what I did.

After Justice passed, I found so many of Justice’s writings. I had also found letters that I wrote to her. This letter I am sharing, I wrote on the morning of Justice's 13th Birthday. I remember crying the whole time while writing; I remember crying even harder as I handed her the letter, Justice probably questioned my sanity a few times, but she never questioned my love.

So today, as I write this blog and the tears roll down my cheeks, I hope to remind you to live a life of no regrets, say the hard things that are on your mind. Show your love to the people who matter most. Don't live a life of fear and find your true happiness wherever that may be.

To Justice on her 13th Birthday…

Justice, how does it happen in a blink of an eye? You were the little girl that rocked my world; you changed me! You made me love like no other love I have ever felt. You were the best little girl any mom could ever ask for, and I have enjoyed the journey of raising you more than you will ever know.

When you were little, you were a determined, very strong-willed, cuddly little girl. I was always so proud of your accomplishments. You are the youngest kid I had ever met to learn to ride your bike in one day before you were 3 ½ years old.

Although you have not followed the path I thought you would have, you have followed your path, and that makes me so proud of you. As you grow into a young woman, you have given me plenty of challenges, as you are a person who doesn't like to listen to the word "NO!" I hope that fight you have deep down inside of you will help you in the game of life. I know your future will be full of success, and your dreams will guide you to work for what you want. I can't wait to see the direction you decide to take in life.

Today, you become a teenager, which is exciting and scary in so many ways. I know you will make many mistakes because that is how teenagers learn. I hope the choices you make in your teenage years will give you great life lessons, so you can be the smartest, happiest, most caring, and determined young woman you can be.

Please don't stop talking to me; I will always be here for you! I love you with all of my heart. Thank you for being you!

Love, Mom

My Perspective

Mon, 17 May 2021 01:57:30 GMT

Don't let the negative emotions consume

I remember, after Justice died, telling my mom that Justice's death could have been worse. She was shocked and asked how it possibly could be worse. I told her that Justice could have been kidnapped and never found. I told her that Justice could have killed somebody else in the accident, and other families would be hurting too. I told her Justice could have been murdered and died painfully and scared. I told her that Justice could have lived, but in a nursing home for years with very little brain activity.

These are the realities of what could have happened. But instead, Justice died, living her best life and to its absolute fullest. She lived a wild, free-spirited life that was full of love, beauty, and so much laughter. Justice died quickly and did not suffer. For this, I am forever grateful.

I wish Justice were still here with us every day, shaking things up like she always did and making us laugh. I could want this all day long, but all it would be is a wish. Instead, Justice's journey of life continues in death through her legacy of Love Like Justice. Her reminder to live a life full of love, kindness, laughter, joy, happiness, and gratitude.

Finding joy, being aware of my feelings, and living a grateful life is how I got through the last 11 months. Knowing I am making a difference, knowing Justice's death started a movement, a reminder that life has no guarantees. Life can hurt so much, and I need to let it hurt, but I must continue to live and find joy.

The way I have chosen to move forward with Justice's death has helped so much. It has taken a lot of work, I have to dig deep inside myself and my beliefs daily, but it has worked to get me through my days and find peace in my broken heart. I realized if I decide to look at the world and all of its negativity, more than likely, I will continue to have negativity surround me, so I changed my perspective and chose to look at my life with a positive twist. Guess what? I live a better, happier life because I don't let the negative emotions consume me.

So my daily routine is to wake up an hour early, spending the time mentally preparing for my day. I meditate for up to 45 minutes. I focus on what I am grateful for, writing down three things daily. As I am getting ready for my day, I listen to a positive podcast that inspires me to be a better person.

All of this helps me move forward in my life of grief. I hope that it can help others move forward too. I realize that losing a child is a hurt that parents live with until the day they die, but I also know I can still have a life with happiness and purpose.

The Hardest Conversations

Wed, 21 Apr 2021 01:41:47 GMT

Death is not an easy conversation

Hours after Justice died…

“Angie, you need to answer your phone; the organ donation company is calling, time is crucial, you need to decide if you will donate Justice's body.” My girlfriend Jamie had to say this to me hours after discovering that Justice had died. Surprisingly, this was not a hard decision to make. It was just the most heartbreaking. A decision no parent should ever have to endure, but sadly, losing a child is not that uncommon. Parents have to make this decision more than you would ever think.

Darren and I knew what we needed to do because we have had hard conversations with our family many times about our final wishes. Death was a topic we were comfortable discussing. Having hard, deep, meaningful conversations with my children, I felt, was necessary. My dad was killed in an accident when I was 23 years old, and we didn't have a lot of these conversations. So his final wishes were more of a guessing game with my grief-stricken loved ones who struggled to make any decisions but had to.

Many of our family's serious discussions didn't seem serious at the time. We were either driving a long distance in the car or sitting at the dining table. I am not a person that likes to talk about the weather, well, I guess that is not true. I am married to a farmer; the weather controls our lives. But honestly, I like my conversations to be soul-searching. I want them to be profound, raw, and meaningful. I have always loved the way my kids’ minds work. Our family debates would range in all topics, from the everlasting discussion about water being wet, or is it? Then deeper conversations about world peace, abortion, politics, the border wall, I always wanted to know why? Why do you feel this way? I have been amazed by how my kids think, their passions for life, their empathy for others, and what makes them tick.

So Justice let us know what her wishes were years before she passed. Although, sometimes, she would say the goofiest things about her final wishes. The most extravagant involved a little wooden boat on the ocean and flaming arrows, which didn't happen.

We had donated Justice's body to research, tissue, and eye donation. We also had Justice cremated. This way, we were able to give Justice's ashes to her loved ones. You see, if Justice were able to choose a superpower, it would be to be everywhere at once. So now a part of her can be with so many people who loved her.

Death is not an easy conversation. Final wishes are not easy to discuss either, which is crazy because death is our only guarantee in life. So, have the hard conversations. Dig deep with your family and loved ones, let them know what is important to you. If being an organ donor is your final wish, don't just put it on your driver's license. Talk about it. Let your family know your wishes and the reasons behind them.

These conversations are not always easy, but neither is losing a loved one and not knowing the answers. I will forever be grateful for my soul-searching conversations with my family. I hope this inspires you to open up to talk about life, death, love, and your dreams. It is so much more interesting than bitching about the weather.

Consider your last act of kindness on earth by being a hero for a person still living and needing your organ. Donate life.

National Endometriosis Month: Justice's Story + Raising Awareness

Sat, 27 Mar 2021 01:33:53 GMT

Having a Heart to Heart

Less than a week before her death, my daughter, Justice, and I were driving down an eastern Montana highway having a heart-to-heart talk. Justice was never uncomfortable with discussing death and her final wishes. So on this day, while digging deep into conversation, Justice reminded me that if anything should ever happen to her, she wanted her body to be donated or to organ research.

Justice and I had these conversations numerous times, but I listened with deep understanding and, at that moment, promised her that I would.

Justice passed away, suddenly, in June 2020, from a car accident. She was 18 years old, full of life, joy, and hope. Although, through the heartache of losing Justice, I kept my promise I had made days before, and we donated her beautiful body to research.

You see, Justice—like three generations of women in our family—had spent the last four years leading up to her death in constant pain from a condition called endometriosis. Endometriosis is a painful disease where tissue grows outside the uterus (on the ovaries, fallopian tubes, and pelvis).

So Justice and I did what my mom and I had done many years prior. We went from doctor to doctor. Justice took the available medicine, had the surgeries, and toward the end, a hysterectomy was the best answer to give her relief and the possibilities of a healthier life.

During the last four years of life, Justice said these words repeatedly.

"Mom, I don't feel good."

"Mom, I just threw up. I can't make it to school."

"Mom, call the doctor. I am so sick."

"Mom, I think I need to go to the emergency room. My pain is so bad! There is something wrong with me."

Instead of Justice going through high school like a typical teenage girl, she struggled with the pain, missed more school than most, and had a dark cloud following her around. It was likely she would need a partial hysterectomy by the age of 20.

The preparation process alone would take significant time, money, and strength, both physical and emotional, before ever having the surgery. Since Justice wanted to have children, this was her only option.

To paint the picture of how difficult this would be, I'll walk you through the process. First, Justice would have to take fertility medicine to produce viable eggs. During this time, she would receive extensive counseling to ensure she was comfortable with her decision to have a partial hysterectomy. Second, her eggs would be extracted–a very invasive and painful process–and frozen. Third, she would undergo the major surgery involved in removing her ovaries. Finally, when she was ready to have children, she would have one of her fertilized eggs artificially inseminated into her uterus. This proposed option was the closest Justice ever got to a cure.

As a survivor myself, I knew all-too-well what she was going through because the only cure I ever found for endometriosis was a partial hysterectomy. Removing my uterus was the best money I ever spent. It was like taking poison from my body, instant relief. But to think of my daughter going through that, and at such a young age, was heartbreaking.

And at the time of my first surgery, doctors truly believed a cure would be developed by now.

It's been 25 years. There is still no cure.

March is Endometriosis Awareness Month, and like Justice, more than 6 1/2 million women suffer from this disorder. Through research, I hope Justice's body can help find a cure. I believe Justice's death is part of a greater purpose to help women everywhere who have endometriosis. I hope Justice's story will encourage other women to share their stories and fight for a better, healthier life.

Now is the time to invest in research. Now is the time to end this suffering for women. Now is the time to become aware. Do it for Justice.

The Number 11

Thu, 11 Mar 2021 02:27:03 GMT

Signs are a funny thing

Signs are a funny thing. People say you always find them when you look for them. But what about when you don’t look for them?

I’ve never really paid attention to signs. I always liked the idea of something more significant in this life, maybe a little bit of magic in this world. But nothing had happened to me, no signs or confirmations, to make me believe in some greater power.

Until I started seeing the number 11.

When I started seeing the number “11,” it startled me. Why was I always seeing this number? What significance did it have in my life?

Finally, after two weeks of constantly seeing the number 11, I realized its purpose. It was preparing me for an earth-shattering tragedy. One that would rock my world, and I would need something much larger than myself to pull me out of the grief.

My daughter Justice was killed in a car accident about two weeks after the number 11 entered my life.

My world was shaken by a pain so deep, I didn't even know how to face the days ahead. Yet, I continued seeing the number 11. It was then I realized 11 was a sign–my way of knowing there was something more significant to my daughter's death. Justice didn't just die; she died for a reason. I believe her date of death was predetermined, and her purpose was larger than anything any of us could ever imagine.

Justice left our house for the very last time at precisely 11 pm. She died 11 miles from our home. I went looking for her at 2:11am. The organ donor company called at 1:11 pm. We later found out that tarot card 11 is the Justice card. I could go on and on.

But honestly, all of these were signs that made me believe in a higher power. Something beyond our human comprehension. Something reassuring in such a tremendous loss. A promise that the soul lives on after it leaves the earth. And proof that angels exist. My angels helped me find peace in my heart. They helped me believe in something much bigger than myself and my earthly life.

Two months before Justice died, I had a dream. It took place on the 22nd anniversary of my dad's death, which was also an accident. My dream was about Justice dying and two men coming to my house to tell me she was gone.

The night of Justice's accident, as I was driving around, I knew–I knew my daughter had died. I just had this innate feeling. And I didn't want to believe it, but my gut told me the truth. The next morning, two men came to my house to confirm that Justice had died in an accident.

I never found Justice when I drove around looking for her the night she died. But I got close. I was on the road twice but turned around each time before getting to her. I believe my angels played a part in that–they protected me from a horror I wasn’t supposed to see. And to my angels, I am grateful.

Despite all the unbearable pain I have suffered, I have also found a belief so strong in the spiritual world that it has helped me move forward. And it has inspired me to do beautiful things in memory, and in honor, of Justice.

Justice’s death changed me. But I refused to let it make me bitter. I now believe in signs. I believe in trusting my gut feelings. I believe in life after death. I believe in angels. I believe there’s more to life than just what we can see. And these beliefs have inspired me to give back to the world. For others, and for Justice.

Justice continues to motivate me to be a better person and to dream big. She is the reason I started the Love Like Justice Company and the Justice Foundation. The store will raise money for the foundation. And the foundation will enable me to share my daughter with the world–her love for life and our mission to do great things. And every step of the way, I’ll keep my eyes open so I don’t miss the next 11.