03/11/2026
June 26, 2012 is a date that forever changed my life.
That’s the day I lost my middle sister, Kelsey. She was only 15 years old after suffering injuries from a 4-wheeler accident. At 15, she already had big dreams of becoming an orthopedic surgeon and helping people one day.
Growing up in a small rural community back then, there weren’t many resources for grief. As a young kid trying to understand such a huge loss, I struggled in ways I didn’t know how to explain. Grief followed me into school, into friendships, and into everyday life. I had a hard time connecting with people, and on top of that, I experienced bullying from classmates and a lack of understanding from teachers who didn’t know how to help a grieving child.
It took years to truly understand what grief looks like.
In the almost 14 years since losing her, I’ve learned that grief isn’t weakness. Grief is love with nowhere to go. It comes in waves. Sometimes it hits you on your hardest days, and sometimes it crashes over you on what should be your happiest ones.
Not a single day goes by that I don’t think about the life Kelsey should have had. I should have been able to watch her graduate high school. I should have seen her chase her dream of becoming a surgeon. I should have been there when she started a family of her own.
Kelsey had the biggest heart. She loved her community, she loved helping others, and she had the most goofy, unforgettable smile that could light up a room.
Even in her passing, she continued to help others. Through organ donation, Kelsey gave the ultimate gift — the gift of life. Because of her selfless decision, she saved lives and continues to live on through others.
Her story didn’t end that day. We continue to keep her memory alive through a scholarship in her name and by sharing her story whenever we can.
Kelsey shaped who I am today. She is one of the biggest reasons I chose a career in healthcare — because I want to care for people the way she cared for others.
If you’re walking through grief right now, please hear this: your feelings matter. Your pain matters. Your story matters. Grief is not something you “get over.” It’s something you learn to carry.
And even on the days it feels heavy, you are not alone.
You are loved. 🤍
~Kendra