We have all faced moments when a friend or someone we know experiences an unimaginable loss due to a sudden death—a car accident, suicide, or illness. When we hear the devastating news, two thoughts immediately fill our minds. First, our hearts break for the grieving family. We want to do anything to help, whether it’s offering prayers, signing up to bring meals, or helping care for children. While we stay busy, there’s often a quieter conversation happening inside—one with God. We say, “God, please watch over this family as they suffer through such a tragic loss. And God, I don’t know what your plans are for my family, but I pray this isn’t part of it. If it is, help us endure it. Your will be done.”
September 18, 2024, started like any other beautiful Indian Summer day. The trees were stunning, and the temperature was perfect. When I got a text from my husband, Bill, that said, “Call me,” I didn’t think much of it. I dialed his number. He picked up right away, which was unusual since he’s usually caught up in work and rarely answers his phone.
“Sharon, I have bad news, and I don’t know any other way to say it but to just say it. Katelyn collapsed this morning from a ruptured brain aneurysm. They got her to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”
Katelyn is one of our nieces, but in that moment, I was convinced Bill must be talking about another Katelyn. Not our Katelyn. Not my goddaughter Katelyn. Not my brother David’s daughter. With every question I asked, Bill calmly responded, “Yes,” as though he could answer a hundred more, each confirming the unthinkable truth. Slowly, it sank in. Katelyn was gone. In the blink of an eye, she was taken from us. My heart shattered, and my mind flooded with questions, none of which could make sense of what had happened.
We had to go to our daughter’s work to tell her that her cousin had died. Just like that, Katelyn was gone. As we made the drive to Chicago, I realized that we had become one of those families—the ones you hope you never have to be a part of.
Katelyn was a vibrant, loving soul who brought joy to everyone around her, especially her parents, David and Sue, her sister, Marisa, and her boyfriend, Cam. Her sudden passing has left a void that will never truly be filled.
As I began to process this unimaginable loss, I started researching brain aneurysms and was shocked by how common they are. Often, they are silent, striking without warning. Katelyn had complained of a headache, stiffness in the back of her neck, and had vomited before she collapsed. If you compare these symptoms to what we hear about the latest strain of COVID, you’ll notice similarities—stiff neck and severe headache. If everyone experiencing these symptoms rushed to the hospital fearing a brain aneurysm, emergency rooms would be overwhelmed. Clearly, symptoms alone are not enough for early detection.
For our family, the shock and grief are unbearable. The pain of losing someone so young and vibrant is indescribable. While we can’t bring Katelyn back, we are committed to raising awareness about brain aneurysms in her memory. By sharing her story, we hope to help other families avoid this heart-wrenching loss and support research that can save lives. Katelyn’s love and light will continue to inspire us as we work to honor her legacy.
I wrote a children’s book, Adele and the Whispering Garden using a pen name Polly Richards. See the link. Through the use of story telling, children learn the value of taking care of the planet, getting out and gardening and organics. Katelyn loved October and Halloween. In memory of Katelyn, all royalties from sales of the book from October will be donated to the Bee Foundation. Planning is also in the works for a memorial 5K walk/run in September, the anniversary of her passing. It’s a way of taking our love and putting it toward something positive so we can help other families from suffering the same devastating loss!
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DCTRM11L?dplnkId=43260d67-8e5f-41ea-8b0e-8a10fc83ad74&nodl=1
