A Celebration of Color, Music, and Memory
Honoring a Beautiful Life, Gone Too Soon

When my dear friend lost her only child at just 25, the heartbreak rippled through everyone who knew him. I was out of town when I got the text. Shock. Sadness. And an ache that still lingers. For a long time, she wasn’t ready to talk about a service... understandably so. But when she was, she wanted it to be memorable.

One Saturday over pancakes, we began to dream it up. I had a clear vision the moment she started describing what she hoped for. She wanted it in her large backyard... a space they both loved.

We transformed it into something sacred, soft, and beautiful. Dozens of seating vignettes popped up across the yard, created from her own colorful collection of furniture, pillows, rugs, and tablecloths, along with rentals we brought in to complement the vibe. There were low tables with poufs, clusters of chairs, sectionals, even recliners. It was boho and bright and full of love.

Lanterns and candleholders were sprinkled throughout the space. As dusk fell and the fire pit came to life, I can only imagine how warm and magical it must have felt, lit by flickering flames and surrounded by so much love.

The family gathered near the fire pit. That was the heart of the service. That’s where the music played, the remarks were made, and the healing began.

We brought in food from a local restaurant meaningful to their culture. Kids and dogs moved freely, as if drawn by some unspoken rhythm. His music played throughout the evening. He was a gifted musician, and his stepfather sang, including a moving rendition of “Beautiful Boy” by the Beatles. His friends from grade school gathered to sing a song they had always sung at school, all those years ago. 

His mother created a beautiful program with one of her favorite photos of him. She created a lovely board of photos from over the years and had some of his treasures displayed. Friends and family offered heartfelt remarks, including a longtime community minister who had worked with him, and his best friend who flew in from California. Family and friends that had been a part of his life came from all over the country. 

I had to leave early for a client event in Texas the next morning, but I stayed as long as I could. Later that night, from the plane window, I snapped a photo of the sunset. That image has come to symbolize so much. It was a moment of reflection, love, and silent farewell to someone I had known since the day he was born.

His passing was sudden and unexpected. And deeply painful. We honored him in the most fitting way we could... with color, his music, joy, grief, firelight, community and family, young and old.

And on that night, the healing could finally begin.