In 2005, during my freshman year of college, I lost my father—my best friend—to kidney cancer. At 18, I thought the only way through was to "suck it up" and climb what I assumed was a small hill of grief.

Nearly 20 years later, I’ve realized that grief isn’t a hill you "get over"; it’s a mountain you learn to live on. For a long time, I carried that weight alone, responding to every "How are you?" with a hollow "I'm good." When I look back at my favorite memories today, I still see the empty seat beside me.

I’m supporting Our House because I don’t want anyone else to feel that isolation. Their mission provides the community and tools I wish I’d had back then. We are raising funds to scale these vital grief services across LA!