PARK CITY, Utah — Molly and Victor Jackson frequently updated their family blog, mostly to write about their precocious daughter, Lucy, and her megawatt smile, her curly blond hair and her love of life.
They were all looking forward to summer 2008 as they prepared to move into a beautiful new home and to celebrate Lucy's upcoming second birthday.
Earlier that year, Molly had finished a run in the titular role in "Peter Pan" at Park City's Egyptian Theatre. Lucy became obsessed with all things Never Land, running around and carrying a doll of Peter everywhere.
"Lucy is such a joy," Molly wrote with a parent's sleepy satisfaction on April 29, 2008. "I can hardly keep up with her!"
Not a month later, little Lucy would be struggling on life support at Primary Children's Medical Center, her devastated parents cradling her body, praying for a miracle.
For them, life had changed overnight.
One minute, the Jacksons were taking a fussy Lucy out of sacrament meeting, the next she began to choke on a narrow apple slice from the snacks Molly had carefully prepared for her that morning.
They attempted the Heimlich maneuver. They tried to clear her air passage. People swarmed out of the church building, comforting a shocked Molly as medical professionals tried to save Lucy's life.
In the hospital, they found out that a pea-sized piece of apple had become lodged in the bottom of Lucy's breathing tube, damaging her brain from lack of oxygen. The prognosis was grim.
On May 22, 2008, only a few days after the accident, Lucy was taken off life support.
"My world, my brain, my body … everything rocked and shattered," Molly said.
Picking up the pieces and moving on after Lucy's death seemed impossible. The Jacksons were lost in a parent's worst nightmare, dealing with guilt, heartache and inevitable monetary strain.
"Going through the grief process and everything involved … there were so many technicalities," Molly said. "The burial, the funeral home. There's so much money involved in something so horrific."
They were amazed, particularly, at the high cost of headstones.
In the midst of their sorrow, the Jacksons determin
ed to set up a fund in Lucy's honor. They wanted to return the outpouring of love they were experiencing by helping other families who had lost a child also afford a decent headstone.
"You don't realize what a terrible decision it is until you experience it," Molly said. "It puts a sense of finality on the whole experience. Putting off getting a headstone is like holding on to your grief; you don't want to go to a cemetery and actually see your child's named printed, engraved."
The process is very clinical, Molly said, having to pick out things like size, shape and color.
"It's not a prom dress or your countertops," she said. "It's brutal. It's surreal. Every parent deserves a headstone they actually want, not just the minimal 'whatever.'"
She established a website, A Good Grief, where people can both donate to the fund or share their experiences.
"My goal after Lucy died was to grieve healthily and fully — to not be afraid of it," she said. "So much good can come out of grief … Feeling is healing, and I want to heal.
"I am still amazed at how scared people are to talk about Lucy, our story, to 'go there' mentally in their own lives. But I wanted this site to show them that grief can be good if we will let it work in us and allow it to teach us, soften us, mold us."
While there is no way to take away someone's pain if they have lost a child, Molly is happy there is a way to ease grieving parents' financial burden.
She hopes to expand the website overtime to help grieving families further, such as suggestions for what to get as sympathy gifts, or listing support groups based on location so families can "find physical resources for coping," she said.
Almost a year after Lucy's death, Molly and Victor were able to have a son who has helped, to some degree, to heal their hearts.
"At first I was a crazy woman," she said, "brain-fried, not sleeping, constantly checking on him. He seemed so fragile. But one night my husband finally said, 'Molly, the bottom line is if God wants to take him, if it's his time, he will take him.'"
That was a turning point for Molly. While she tries not to focus on her fear of going through such a tragic loss all over again, she has realized it's not in her hands.
"The gift Lucy gave me with her loss was to savor the moment, to be a better and more patient mom," she said.
Molly has literally rebuilt her testimony since then, stopping to "figure out what it was that I really believed," she said.
She had to nurse her private pain, hurting over people telling her over and over again how lucky she was to have the gospel.
"In a way, I was like, 'no, this is still hard,'" Molly said. "I think it can inhibit the healing of LDS people when others want to slap a Band-Aid on it and call it good."
Searching out specific church doctrine and reading the words of the prophets in regards to children passing away continues to be a huge source of strength for the Jacksons.
As for Lucy: She may "never grow up," at least in this life, just like the brave boy from the Never Land, but her light shines on in the person of her younger brother.
His name is Peter.
e-mail: eschmuhl@desnews.com