Tuesday, April 7th felt like a moment that demanded a pause. It was both a good day and a heavy one.
For the fifth year in a row, we spent the day at a very special place for Zach to host his memorial blood drive. It was wonderful—seeing friends, neighbors, and our community show up to give a part of themselves to save others. It was a day spent in a place Zach loved at the end of his life, surrounded by the horses, kittens, and dogs that brought him peace.
And yet, it was also a sad day.
The Five-Year Marker
Five years without Zach. Five years of new experiences and memories that have had to exist without him physically in them. I loved being there; I also hated being there.
By the end of the day, I was absolutely exhausted. It wasn’t because I had given a pint of blood, or because Zach’s horse has since retired and moved on, or even the memory of the life-enhancing transfusions Zach received during his own illness. It was the emotional weight of the “Both…And…”
Living “Both…And…”
The concept of “Both…And…” is an integral part of the journey for a bereaved parent. It has been an integral part of the journey for both of us which Jon described at the end of 2025. It is the space where two conflicting truths live together:
- I am both saddened that he is not here and happy that he is no longer in pain.
-
I both look forward to seeing our friends at Lovelane (the therapeutic riding program where Zach rode at the end of his life) every April and dread it because it marks another year passed.
-
I both celebrate the community that rose up to support us and wish with everything in me that we never needed that support to begin with.
As we get closer to what would have been Zach’s 21st birthday, the “what ifs” get louder. I wonder what he would be doing now. I wonder how life might have been different if he had never gotten sick. Sometimes these thoughts make me sad, and sometimes they don’t—but they are always there.
The Legacy of Being Like Zach
The idea to “Be Like Zach” started long before this year. We talked about it while he was ill in 2021, and we have talked about it every day since.
Zach himself embodied the “Both…And…” He was both challenging and resilient. He was difficult and amazing. He struggled immensely, yet he triumphed in the ways that mattered most. Every day, I try to live in a way that honors that duality.
I hope he would be proud of the work we do at Zach’s Bridge. I also know him well enough to know he’d probably rather we were doing something involving supercars, horses, or dogs—which brings me back to the blood drive.
More Than a Donation
The blood drive is about so much more than the units collected. It’s about returning to a place where Zach got to do one of his favorite things, even after he lost his leg, and even when his time was short.
For bereaved parents, dates and anniversaries carry a charge that is hard to describe to those who haven’t walked this path. They are markers of time that represent both a life well-loved and a void that never truly closes.
As we approach “Be Like Zach Day” and his 21st birthday, I invite you to join us in that “Both…And…” We can be sad for what was lost, but we can be active in how we give back. We can miss him, and we can move forward—together.
