I Lost My Son. I Wrote to Survive. Then I Healed
... and the book was never the plan
I was lying on the cold floor.
The first tear ran down my cheek. Warm. Salty.
Then another. And another.
Soon it was a flood.
Then.. there was a moment when there were no tears left. Just breath. Just weight in my chest.
During the Christmas season, I missed several family members who aren’t here with me and my family anymore. The empty spaces were loud. The memories louder.
At the same time, I felt deep gratitude.
For my small circle.
For the people still here.
And for you. My writing family!
This is guest post #2 of the year. It’s especially for those who have lost someone they love.
(If you’re an annual subscriber, you can also submit a guest post. New or resubmitted. It will be seen by 17,000 readers.)
There are no words for how honoured I feel to share Jennifer’s story with you today.
If you’re grieving, please know this. You’re not weak or broken. You’re human.
🙏🏼Sending hugs and prayers to everyone carrying loss today.🙏🏼
An emotional bouncy ball.
That was me watching Home Alone 2 with my son Jake a few weeks ago.
Jake is a teenager so he hardly ever watches movies with me anymore. Jake and his older sister Jayme and I used to watch a movie every Saturday night. I loved those nights. My heart swells 3 sizes when I think about the time when they’d rather be with me than anyone else.
But then Jayme got her driver’s license, and we had movie night less and less often.
Now Jayme is away at college and Jake would rather watch anime.
But back to the other night.
We watched Kevin, Harry, and Marv and laughed at the familiar funny lines:
▶ Bellman: “Do you know how the TV works?” Kevin: “I’m 10-years-old. TV is my life.”
▶ “It’s a nice night for a neck injury!”
▶ “Don’t you know, a kid always wins against two idiots.”
Jake was actually enjoying the movie rather than pestering me with the repeated question, “How much longer do I have to stay here and watch this?”
My heart was full.
But then it bounced downward into sadness because Jayme wasn’t here. It seemed like forever since we’d all been together watching a movie.
At the end of the movie, Kevin says to the pigeon lady:
“I won’t forget to remember you.”
And there went my heart again... bouncing into memories of Jackson… my sweet baby who I’ve had to live without for two decades.
Early on in grief, I had such a fear that in order to move toward healing, I would have to move away from Jackson.
I thought healing meant what the world had taught me... that eventually you must “move on” and “get over it” and if you don’t, there’s something wrong with you.
I’ve since learned, that’s completely false.
In fact, I’ve found the exact opposite to be true.
The more I hold on to the love and connection between me and my son, the more I heal and the steadier I feel.
No matter how I move forward in life, I won’t forget to remember my son!
But in those early years, before the pain softened, I turned again and again to the one thing that had always steadied me: writing.
Surviving, Coping, and Something More
I’d been writing in journals since I was a teenager. It was how I processed my feelings. It was how I captured moments that were important.
After Jackson died, journaling became something much more.
My refuge. My safe space, where I could be completely honest about my grief and pain. And also a place where I continued to communicate with my son by writing letters to him.
Looking back, I can see a pattern.
I would write. Not to publish, not to explain, just to get things out of my head and onto the page.
I would remember. The precious moments, the love, the ache, the questions, the details I was afraid I’d forget.
I would honor what showed up, the real truth and raw feelings, without downplaying or making it tidy.
And then, I’d continue.
Life kept moving, and so did I, unknowingly following this pattern of healing.
Write. Remember. Honor. Continue.
I hoped someday I’d be able to take my writings and what I’d learned and do something that would benefit others.
Five years after Jackson’s death, I wrote this in my Letters to Jackson journal:
“Dear Jackson,
I think someday I’ll write a book, something to help others make their way through the grief of losing a child.
I try to do what I can now since I don’t have time to write a book yet. I take the opportunities that come along to share and give hope whenever I can.
But I want to do more. I want to honor you more. I want to help people, and I think I actually could because of you. And so I should.
But until I figure all that out, I love you. I still ache for you. I treasure the time I did have with you. And always, I miss you.”
A Book Was Waiting
All those years of writing... messy handwritten journal entries (and rambling Evernote entries), reflections, stories like the one about movie night... these became the foundation of an actual book: From Gutted to Glorious: Transform Your Grief and Rediscover Your Joy
It’s about my journey after losing Jackson and much more. It’s got research-backed insights, actionable guidance, and the 6 G’s framework I created to help others move forward without leaving their love behind.
If you’re carrying loss into the new year...
If your heart feels like mine did the other night, enjoying a bonding moment with a loved one while simultaneously missing others...
If you want a practical, compassionate, hopeful guide for healing… this book is for you.
Whether 2026 holds grief, joy, uncertainty, or some mix of all three, I hope your writing (or other healing modality…. gardening, hiking, volunteering) leads you toward the next chapter of your Glorious life.
Write. Remember. Honor. Continue.
This is how we make sense of where we’ve been. And how we carry the stories and people who matter most, letting them guide us as we move forward.
👉 If you’re feeling isolated in your grief, grief support texts can help - donation-based, no pressure, just presence.
👉 Or, if you’re craving something deeper, explore my Grief Guide program. A personal, one-on-one, writing-based journey of healing and connection. Learn more here.
“Jennifer Hacker ran a sensational campaign and got her book to Number One Bestseller on Amazon across SIX categories,” shared my collab partner Fleur Hull from The Substack Bookstore who’s doing book publishing, promo and PR for the small guys, the indie authors and purposeful dreamers. See it for yourself!
If this moved you, share it! Support an indie writer and mompreneur by passing this story on♻️SHARE ♻️ Jennifer’s words. So somewhere in heaven, the angels can tell her son about his brave and wonderful mom!
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Want to share vulnerable memories and think it's too scary to share them publicly? Join our Club Chat with Jennifer: https://substack.com/chat/443311/post/bfc80faf-ea0a-4a09-8c79-3649acf96536
Hard to write after the loss of a son, even after 27 years. I write each year with a yearly letter suggesting what 'may have been' for the year for my son, if he were still alive.