If you were blessed enough to know Jim, my husband, you already understand the impact of his passing. What we shared together was rare and irreplaceable.

In 1991 we opened Grapheteria in Portland, Maine and what we created was more than a business – it is an extension of our hearts – it is a place where art, memory, and human connection live effortlessly and become a cornerstone of the community. For 35 years we worked side by side.

For decades, we lived with the specter of heart failure, but you wouldn’t have known it. On paper, Jim’s body told one story; he was clinically ill. The way he lived told another. He was vibrant, curious, funny, and full of gratitude. Jim was practical, honest, and deeply devoted.

For 26 years, we lived fully and treasured every day but in early March of 2025, everything changed when Jim was admitted to Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston. Jim underwent open heart surgery to receive an LVAD; a lifesaving device that would help his heart keep going. What followed was a year-long battle marked by courage, resilience, and unimaginable endurance. There were moments of hope and there were many setbacks - internal bleeding, infection, sepsis, dialysis, respiratory failure, and countless re-intubations. Surgeries stacked on surgeries. Complications that didn’t make sense. Small victories followed by new hurdles. Days that felt hopeful and nights that felt impossibly heavy but through it all, Jim fought with amazing strength as we faced every challenge, side by side.

I split my time between Boston and Maine for more than a year with the help and dedication of our sole employee, Michelle, working to keep the business alive while I poured every ounce of myself into Jim’s care. I became everything at once: wife, caregiver, advocate, researcher, protector. I carried hope when it felt paper-thin, always believing in “Healed, Whole, Holy & Home.” I said it, I believed it, and I willed it into every space Jim occupied.

This March, after a year of relentless effort, Jim’s doctors delivered the words no one is ever ready to hear: “There is nothing more we can do.” On March 20, 2026 - on our 27th wedding anniversary, the first day of Spring - I said goodbye to my husband, my partner, my lifelong best friend.

The weight of this past year has been immense, both in its challenges and its loss. I spent tens of thousands of dollars on temporary housing, food, and travel between Boston and Maine and now I’m faced with the expense of a funeral and continuing on my own with only one income.

I am not someone who would ever ask for help but right now, I need it. This fundraiser is to help me find a small bit of breathing room as I grieve the love of my life and begin to navigate a world that feels entirely different without Jim. I greatly appreciate the support and just as importantly, the reminder that I am not alone as I learn how to move forward.

Every contribution is an act of love, and every share honors our story, everything helps.

Healed, Whole, Holy & Home… just in a different way. ❤️