Our Story

My purpose in sharing our story, is so that I may be able give insight into our life.

Before & after we lost Cale. He is a part of every aspect of our life forever. Even more so now. I also want to answer to some of the curiosity of what happened to him. To share the intense details so that you can truly understand our journey, and our faith as well. It is incredibly healing for me to write this out, so I will- in hopes that whoever reads this, can appreciate my vulnerability without judgement.

Now, where to begin.. the good stuff.

I’m a Boston born, Southern raised, now Colorado girl. In 2009, I met a boy in high school, fell in love, and I bet you can guess the rest ;) Cale and I were your typical high school sweethearts- started out young and built a life we loved. Actually, not-so-typical, because our love was anything but that. We loved hard, and through that came crazy-fun chaos, riding the highs and lows of life together. We were engaged at a Broncos vs. Patriots game in December of 2011, married in Jamaica in May of 2012, and a few months later had our first baby girl, Laroux, on the way. Cale was a working on his four year apprenticeship to be a Journeyman Lineman, and I was starting out in Real Estate. We both loved what we did, but loved our little family even more. Our family grew from three- to four with our Lola girl, with a lot of excitement along the way. I’m sure I’ll cover a lot of that later on.

Fast forward to 2018. We had our third sweet baby, Ledger, and I started my faaavorite job as a stay at home mom. Life.was.a.DREAM. Cale and I had built a home together, a home we had only imagined for years. We had it pretty damn good.

We welcomed 2019 together, and felt a shift coming our way. We could sense a change coming, but figured it was our hearts churning for something more. It sounds crazy, but it’s not. Change was coming.

On Valentine’s Day we left on a spontaneous California road trip. This was a big week for us, and the last we would share away as a family. We sang, we laughed until we cried, we ate too much seafood, partied at Disneyland. Hit almost every beach in SoCal. We did it alllllll. So much fun actually, that we talked about moving there. This vacation will forever be a big part of my heart. We loved every second of it, and it was just pure bliss. The week I wish I could re-live forever.

Just three weeks later, I lived my worst nightmare.

Cale had started feeling sick on a Wednesday, but we assumed it was just allergies, or the typical man-cold. Thursday he felt worse- fever, chills, cough- all of it. I could tell something was really wrong. Friday we went to an urgent care, which he was even hesitant to do- but this was the sickest I had ever seen him. So we went. He was diagnosed with Influenza A, sent home with a prescription for cough and flu medications, and we stocked up on Gatorade and vitamin C to ride this out.

Having three babies at home, we decided he should sleep in the basement to keep them from it. The next morning he felt somewhat better. He ate, he slept, and we were hoping that it was starting to pass or that the medication was helping. I went about our day with the kids, and he stayed home to rest up. Later that night, I kissed him on the neck goodnight, and I went upstairs. I had a feeling that I should text him that I loved him. Those would be my last words to him, ever.

In the early hours of that Sunday morning, I woke up with panic and anxiety. I had been dealing with what I thought was Postpartum Anxiety for the past two months- so this was a normal, but hated reality for me. I called my parents, who lived in Singapore at the time, watched a movie, took a shower. and tried to calm myself down. Around 5AM, the dogs came upstairs- and I heard what I thought were Cale’s footsteps in the kitchen. I didn’t want to bother him, and figured he was getting his dose of medication or a drink. I knew if he needed me, he would come upstairs. Eventually, I drifted back to sleep and didn’t wake until 7:40. This later left me with the most intense guilt.

Laroux woke me up, and wanted to go get her daddy. We climbed out of bed, hurried downstairs to the basement, and walked into the guest room. The sun was shining through the blinds, but it was still dark. I touched Cale’s foot to softly wake him, and he was so cold. I flipped the light switch while telling him how cold it was in there— and instantly saw something was very wrong. To spare some heart-wrenching details, I knew he was not okay. Laroux had jumped on the bed at this point to wake him. I screamed and told her we had to leave. Looking back, you would think I would have stayed and instantly tried to help him, but I had my five year old baby with me- terrified of what was happening, and I had to get her out.

We ran outside, called 911, and I left her upstairs with my iPad as my parents calmed her down via FaceTime, not knowing what was happening either. I ran back downstairs, was told to get him to the floor, and with strength I know I do not have, I carried his body to the ground to begin CPR. The phone call dropped, and I just remember begging him to wake up, as I tried desperately to breathe life into him. Laroux screamed down the stairs that an ambulance was there, and it was the team who would work on him for 28 minutes, exhausting ALL efforts.

I was told to wait upstairs, and at this point- our neighbors had come to get Laroux while the other two babes were sleeping. This was hell for me. I was alone, shivering in panic, until a kind police officer came to sit with me. He cried for me, as I stared at him in terror. I remember telling him that Cale had to wake up. Tears were streaming down his face, and I’ll never forget how thankful I was in that moment, for him to be by my side. I called our family and close friends, and all I could tell them was that I found Cale not breathing. Everyone was rushing to us. Paramedics were coming up and down the stairs asking me a million questions. I answered the best I could, giving any details. In my mind, I thought this was good news. Cale must be responding to their efforts. I thought he was going to be okay.

Cale’s mom was rushing up to our home with his brother, and I had her on the phone as they were coming to me with more news. The battalion chief from the Castle Rock Fire Department came and sat down next to me, and started speaking to us both. Before I could understand what he was trying to say, Cale’s mom started screaming on the phone. Being in the fire department for her whole career, she knew what he was saying. He was gone. I still to this day, cannot begin to explain my emotions at that time. Confusion, shock, the deepest pain. I was angry that he told me this while I had no one I knew around me. I was on my couch, the couch we were just wrestling on together days before. I was squeezing my own neck as he told us, and I wanted nothing more than to pass out and wake up to this being an actual nightmare. But it wasn’t. There is not a word or way to explain my excruciating pain in this moment, and every day it followed.

A lot of this day is engrained in my mind forever, while some of it is a blur. This day felt like eternity. Never ending.

Our closest friends, Cale’s family, our co-workers, our neighbors, then my family- everyone came to us that day, our home was so full, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

One of the memories I will never forget, was climbing into Cale’s truck alone. I needed a moment to just breathe, to cry, to just be. I screamed through my tears. Saying sorry to Cale for not saving him, begging God for him back. Asking him what we did to deserve this. I needed to know why. I was laying on the seats, crying and begging for what felt like hours. It was cold, I couldn’t feel my body. The shock and pain had taken over, and my heart felt like it was going to stop at any second. These moments were overwhelming, yet I felt his presence. I climbed back out of that truck and knew I had to have the strength to get through this. I didn’t know how, but I knew why.

Our biggest question was what actually happened. And to that, I don’t have a clear answer. Between the illnesses, medications prescribed for his cough and Influenza A, missed diagnosis, and tragedy- he slipped into unconsciousness while sleeping. His body just stopped breathing. I have spent hours talking to the Coroner, Doctors, Pathologists, Pharmacists. I didn’t know how a healthy, strong, perfect 26 year old man could just “slip away” in his sleep. I blamed myself, I questioned everything. It’s been months of agony trying to replay the what-if’s and to try to piece together our many unanswered questions. But for now, I feel peace in these answers, and that’s where I have to keep myself.

From here, I’ll share bits and pieces of our life now. Because in this deep darkness, there has been light. And I want to share it all. There is hope in the midst of our loss, and I have to believe there is a purpose for this pain. I have had to trust more, love harder, forgive when it feels impossible, and most of all- give myself grace. I don’t have this figured out, and I probably never will. But sharing what I feel and what I’m learning is healing, and I know that it’s what I need to do. My motivation in doing this, is that what I share may be able to help others going through our same, or similar journey, and to give hope to those who feel lost. You’re not alone.