Memories of Dr. Christina Hong Paguyo

Glenn DeGuzman

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Megan Swonder

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Glenn DeGuzman

1

Megan Swonder

Close

Glenn DeGuzman

1

Megan Swonder

Close

Scott Burke

2024, Denver, CO, USA

June 5, 2024 – “Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”

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Glenn DeGuzman

Megan Swonder

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Scott Burke

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.
 
As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much.

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed... Read more our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world... Read more with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all... Read more to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less

Glenn DeGuzman

Loved reading this. She had so much fire in her. Miss her so much as well. Will continue to spread her light... Read more Loved reading this. She had so much fire in her. Miss her so much as well. Will continue to spread her light (and Ness') till... Read more Loved reading this. She had so much fire in her. Miss... Read more

Alexis Kanda-Olmstead

Thank you for sharing your love story with us. It is one for the ages. Thank you for sharing your love story with us. It is one for the ages. Thank you for sharing your love story with us. It is... Read more

Scott Burke

2004, Denver Botanic Gardens, York Street, Denver, CO, USA

June 5, 2004 – Radiantly beautiful as always with her bouquet of peonies.

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Alexis Kanda-Olmstead

Megan Swonder

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Scott Burke

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.
 
As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much.

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed... Read more our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world... Read more with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all... Read more to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less

Scott Burke

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.
 
As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much.

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed... Read more our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world... Read more with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all... Read more to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less

Scott Burke

2004, Denver Botanic Gardens, York Street, Denver, CO, USA

June 5, 2004— This has always been my favorite photo of Christina and me minutes after our wedding ceremony concluded. The photographer we hired was a complete upstart and wise beyond her years. She insisted that right after the ceremony ended, she needed to whisk us away for a walk in the garden. That walk led us to the Japanese garden, where we sat on a bench together for a minute, and the rest of the world vanished as we both smiled and cried happy tears of joy. This intimate moment between us could never be captured or recreated. While I can't remember the photographer's name, I do know that Christina looked her up in 2018 to see if we could hire her again for today. At that time, her portfolio comprised photographs of famous people in New York City. Christina laughed when she told me, saying, "She is way out of our league now."

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Scott Burke

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.
 
As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much.

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed... Read more our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world... Read more with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all... Read more to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less

Scott Burke

2017, Red Rocks Park and Amphitheatre, West Alameda Parkway, Morrison, CO, USA

June 5, 2017 – This is a selfie of us at Film on the Rocks just before the start of Dirty Dancing.

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Scott Burke

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.
 
As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much.

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed... Read more our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world... Read more with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all... Read more to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less

Scott Burke

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.
 
As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much.

"Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed... Read more our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world... Read more with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less "Now, I've had the time of my life, And I owe it all... Read more to you."
Christina and I were planners and co-constructed our shared world with intentionality, purpose, and love. I am reminded of our deliberate planning daily by the dry-erase calendar written in Christina's handwriting hanging in the Sanctuary that I can't bring myself to erase, as well as the long-term plans we envisioned together for a lifetime ahead stored in my memory. Over the past eighteen months, I have spent countless hours staring at this dry-erase calendar, trapped in my mind with one foot rooted in the past and one foot in the present. As I move forward into the dark reality of permanent acceptance, one of my biggest fears is that I may outlive the long-term plans Christina and I set in motion for our combined future together. Widowhood at any age is devastating, and the complexity of young widowhood (55 and younger) doesn't just turn your world upside down; it levels your world to the ground and washes everything out to sea like a gigantic tsunami wave where you no longer know left, right, up, or down. In an instant, you lose hope, faith, home, and belonging, and days like today bring your fears to the surface as you cross the threshold of another planned milestone.
Today is Christina and my twentieth wedding anniversary. We had magnificent plans for today that we set in motion shortly after we relocated to the Denver metro area on our anniversary, June 5, 2017. To fully understand, you must know more about our love story and wedding. Christina and I cherished and celebrated our independence and believed we could accomplish anything we dreamed of as long as we were together. Our wedding was no different. We were both products of divorced and blended families, which resulted in each of us having definite ideas about leaving no stone unturned in our relationship. We happily cohabitated, beginning a few weeks after we started dating, and bought our first home together in 2002 before being officially engaged or married. We did everything our way and threw convention aside for what we knew was right for us.
We were officially engaged in August 2003, and throughout the ten months of wedding planning, we were determined not to ask our parents for financial help and instead opted to pay for everything ourselves. Reflecting, it was another way we both were coming of age within the story we continually wrote together. We chose to keep our wedding extremely small and intimate, surrounded by our family and friends at the time, who we affectionately refer to as our "framily" (friends who become family). We did an excellent job selecting the "framily" because all but two of these people have stood the test of time over the past two decades and are still very active in our lives. Our wedding occurred at the Denver Botanic Gardens under the gazebo by the Monet Pond. We dined at our reception with everyone at Maggiano's in the Denver Pavilions on the 16th Street Mall. We did away with dancing and opted to give everyone an experience, so we provided horse-drawn carriage rides along 16th Street for our guests, which was a fond memory of ours from a spontaneous date the second week we knew each other. We had a beautiful wedding, and it was fun to ride in a carriage and have total strangers along the mall yell out, "Congratulations!" It was the closest thing to royalty we ever experienced.
Every detail about the wedding we planned together was similar to how we lived our lives, and we both felt that we wanted our guests to feel wrapped in the kind of love we shared daily. As we planned, one thing Christina disliked was the amount of emphasis on the bride. Christina was adamant that this would be a wedding where we were each represented equally. While Christina's bouquet was made entirely of peonies, her favorite flowers, she wanted to ensure there were flowers in our wedding that represented me. During the first two years of our relationship until we earned our undergraduate degrees, Christina would surprise me with a single Gerbera daisy she would purchase from Flowerama in the Lory Student Center at Colorado State University. She would present this single flower to me and say, "If you were a flower, Scott Burke, you would be a Gerbera daisy because, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you fall asleep at night, you are always happy and ready to welcome everyone into your world." To represent these early building blocks of our relationship, unbeknownst to any of our guests, the significance of the Gerbera daisies, each guest held a single Gerbera daisy throughout our marriage ceremony. To Christina and I, the Gerbera daisies signified a time in our relationship when we had nothing but each other, love, hope, and the promise of a brilliant lifetime together.
Between 2004 and 2022, life's turbulence took hold. Some years, we celebrated our wedding anniversaries together; some years, we were apart due to work or other commitments. On June 5, 2017, everything aligned perfectly, and I received word that Red Rocks Amphitheater was showing Dirty Dancing that night as part of their annual Film on the Rocks series. Many may have yet to learn about Christina, but Dirty Dancing was one of Christina's favorite movies from the 1980s. Collaborating with some of Christina's colleagues, we filled Christina's work schedule with fake meetings she had to attend. It was so fun hearing her complain about these fictitious meetings weeks ahead of time when I would casually ask her what she wanted to do for our anniversary. After weeks of anticipation, I surprised Christina by picking her up early from work with a change of clothes and a to-go order of her favorite custom dish from Vert Kitchen, the House Roast Turkey Sandwich, made as a salad. Christina kept asking where I was taking her as we drove west toward Red Rocks. I kept saying, "You'll see," but as we got closer to Red Rocks, Christina guessed it and said that she saw Dirty Dancing advertised and wanted to go; however, after looking at her packed work schedule, she decided not to tell me about it. Little did she know that her entire schedule from 2:30 on that day was make-believe, thanks to the help of her fabulous colleagues. After securing our seats, we purchased drinks and movie theater popcorn from the concession stand, and when I pulled out a disposable pair of chopsticks from my cargo shorts to hand to Christina, she giggled and said, "You thought of everything." We sat together and enjoyed the movie, cheering with the crowd at appropriate points, like when Johnny (Patrick Swayze) fights Robbie (Max Cantor) and says, "Get out of here. You're not even worth it." Film on the Rocks is like a cross between a drive-in movie and a melodrama for those who have never attended.

As we drove home that night, holding hands as we always did in the car, Christina said, "You know, one thing we never did was dance at our wedding." We also talked about how much our community of awe-inspiring family, "framily," and friends had grown and how appreciative we are of everyone that colors our lives. At that moment, we started planning to renew our wedding vows on June 5, 2024, and host a Dirty Dancing-themed Silver Anniversary (20 years married + 5 years "test driving the cars" as our inside joke between us) at the Washington Park Boathouse. We even committed to surprise everyone and hire a private dance instructor to teach us to dance the final number between Frances (Jennifer Grey) and Johnny (Patrick Swayze). I can still hear Christina's laugh as she said, we can practice the dance routine's lift in the Wash Park Lake, and I want to be sitting in the corner somewhere and have you start the dance by saying, "Nobody puts Baby in a corner."
We got home late that night, and on the kitchen counter just through the back door from the garage, Christina was greeted by a custom flower arrangement made with peonies and Gerbera daisies. Standing in the kitchen of our University of Denver home, we pinky promised today would be the day we celebrate the past twenty-five years and look forward to the infinite years ahead. To the moon and back, I miss us so much. Read less

Scott Burke

2023, Denver Botanic Gardens, York Street, Denver, CO, USA

Christina's Favorite Spots in the Gardens

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Scott Burke

An Incongruent Feeling

How should I feel today? A year ago, the days and weeks leading up to May 5, 2023, were spent coordinating and planning Christina's Celebration of Light. One year ago today, I was overcome with emotions, surrounded by dozens of people who love and care about Christina and me as I experienced one emotional breakdown after another. Under the power of the Penumbra Flower Full Moon, I struggled to get through the day. I remember feeling suffocated by the enormous life change before me as each minute drew me closer to a last communal goodbye filled with many people I had not seen since Christina's passing on January 3, 2023.

I spent most of the day withdrawing and hiding in the en suite bedroom. I watched as friends and family gathered to begin setting up for the celebration of Christina's life and started taking items from our home to display at the Denver Botanic Gardens. Removing Christina's items from our Sanctuary home was a painful experience and a reminder that nothing moved would ever be returned as Christina had left them. Christina took pride in her environment and meticulously surrounded herself with, as she called it, "beautiful simplicity." She loved a clutter-free home with essential things she cared about. Christina was also very private, and all day, I couldn't help but think about how much she would have hated her things being on display. This experience was a slow death of 1,000 painful papercuts for me and was a swirling metaphor reflecting how much pain and heartbreak I was experiencing at that moment and how much was still yet to come. Christina's books were no longer in the same order she left them. I knew her clothes would no longer hang in the closet exactly how she hung them. I knew the Sanctuary would never feel the same, which broke me. These are the parts of grief and endless love that no one talks about because until you know firsthand, you don't know. These experiences tear you apart because, while the world continually tells you your soul mate is no longer here, your heart, soul, and mind continually tell you otherwise.

One year later, our sanctuary home is empty and quiet this morning, with nothing to plan or do except reflect and remember. While I could never place everything exactly as Christina left it, I have done my best and know that is what Christina would have wanted, only if it made me happy. The reality now is that the grief I feel is more profound, darker, and more hidden than ever. When strangers ask me how I am doing in public, I smile and tell them I am "OK," but the truth is that I am not "OK." I am just better at carrying the enormity of the loss of Christina, and there is an incongruence where my insides never match my outsides. I suppose this incongruence is a similar metaphor for everyone. While things on the outside may look the same, everything inside is completely different.

Christina and I loved the Denver Botanic Gardens; spring was always one of our favorite times of year to spend time together. If you find yourself there in the coming weeks, please scan the QR code on this map of the gardens, which outlines Christina's favorite places. You may see me there, and if you ask me how I am, I will politely smile and tell you I am "OK." To the moon and back, I love you, I miss you, and I miss us.

An Incongruent Feeling

How should I feel today? A year ago, the days and weeks leading up to May 5, 2023,... Read more were spent coordinating and planning Christina's Celebration of Light. One year ago today, I was overcome with emotions, surrounded by dozens of people who love and care about Christina and me as I experienced one emotional breakdown after another. Under the power of the Penumbra Flower Full Moon, I struggled to get through the day. I remember feeling suffocated by the enormous life change before me as each minute drew me closer to a last communal goodbye filled with many people I had not seen since Christina's passing on January 3, 2023.

I spent most of the day withdrawing and hiding in the en suite bedroom. I watched as friends and family gathered to begin setting up for the celebration of Christina's life and started taking items from our home to display at the Denver Botanic Gardens. Removing Christina's items from our Sanctuary home was a painful experience and a reminder that nothing moved would ever be returned as Christina had left them. Christina took pride in her environment and meticulously surrounded herself with, as she called it, "beautiful simplicity." She loved a clutter-free home with essential things she cared about. Christina was also very private, and all day, I couldn't help but think about how much she would have hated her things being on display. This experience was a slow death of 1,000 painful papercuts for me and was a swirling metaphor reflecting how much pain and heartbreak I was experiencing at that moment and how much was still yet to come. Christina's books were no longer in the same order she left them. I knew her clothes would no longer hang in the closet exactly how she hung them. I knew the Sanctuary would never feel the same, which broke me. These are the parts of grief and endless love that no one talks about because until you know firsthand, you don't know. These experiences tear you apart because, while the world continually tells you your soul mate is no longer here, your heart, soul, and mind continually tell you otherwise.

One year later, our sanctuary home is empty and quiet this morning, with nothing to plan or do except reflect and remember. While I could never place everything exactly as Christina left it, I have done my best and know that is what Christina would have wanted, only if it made me happy. The reality now is that the grief I feel is more profound, darker, and more hidden than ever. When strangers ask me how I am doing in public, I smile and tell them I am "OK," but the truth is that I am not "OK." I am just better at carrying the enormity of the loss of Christina, and there is an incongruence where my insides never match my outsides. I suppose this incongruence is a similar metaphor for everyone. While things on the outside may look the same, everything inside is completely different.

Christina and I loved the Denver Botanic Gardens; spring was always one of our favorite times of year to spend time together. If you find yourself there in the coming weeks, please scan the QR code on this map of the gardens, which outlines Christina's favorite places. You may see me there, and if you ask me how I am, I will politely smile and tell you I am "OK." To the moon and back, I love you, I miss you, and I miss us. Read less An Incongruent Feeling

How should I feel today? A year ago, the days and weeks leading up to May 5, 2023, were spent coordinating... Read more and planning Christina's Celebration of Light. One year ago today, I was overcome with emotions, surrounded by dozens of people who love and care about Christina and me as I experienced one emotional breakdown after another. Under the power of the Penumbra Flower Full Moon, I struggled to get through the day. I remember feeling suffocated by the enormous life change before me as each minute drew me closer to a last communal goodbye filled with many people I had not seen since Christina's passing on January 3, 2023.

I spent most of the day withdrawing and hiding in the en suite bedroom. I watched as friends and family gathered to begin setting up for the celebration of Christina's life and started taking items from our home to display at the Denver Botanic Gardens. Removing Christina's items from our Sanctuary home was a painful experience and a reminder that nothing moved would ever be returned as Christina had left them. Christina took pride in her environment and meticulously surrounded herself with, as she called it, "beautiful simplicity." She loved a clutter-free home with essential things she cared about. Christina was also very private, and all day, I couldn't help but think about how much she would have hated her things being on display. This experience was a slow death of 1,000 painful papercuts for me and was a swirling metaphor reflecting how much pain and heartbreak I was experiencing at that moment and how much was still yet to come. Christina's books were no longer in the same order she left them. I knew her clothes would no longer hang in the closet exactly how she hung them. I knew the Sanctuary would never feel the same, which broke me. These are the parts of grief and endless love that no one talks about because until you know firsthand, you don't know. These experiences tear you apart because, while the world continually tells you your soul mate is no longer here, your heart, soul, and mind continually tell you otherwise.

One year later, our sanctuary home is empty and quiet this morning, with nothing to plan or do except reflect and remember. While I could never place everything exactly as Christina left it, I have done my best and know that is what Christina would have wanted, only if it made me happy. The reality now is that the grief I feel is more profound, darker, and more hidden than ever. When strangers ask me how I am doing in public, I smile and tell them I am "OK," but the truth is that I am not "OK." I am just better at carrying the enormity of the loss of Christina, and there is an incongruence where my insides never match my outsides. I suppose this incongruence is a similar metaphor for everyone. While things on the outside may look the same, everything inside is completely different.

Christina and I loved the Denver Botanic Gardens; spring was always one of our favorite times of year to spend time together. If you find yourself there in the coming weeks, please scan the QR code on this map of the gardens, which outlines Christina's favorite places. You may see me there, and if you ask me how I am, I will politely smile and tell you I am "OK." To the moon and back, I love you, I miss you, and I miss us. Read less An Incongruent Feeling

How should I feel today? ... Read moreA year ago, the days and weeks leading up to May 5, 2023, were spent coordinating and planning Christina's Celebration of Light. One year ago today, I was overcome with emotions, surrounded by dozens of people who love and care about Christina and me as I experienced one emotional breakdown after another. Under the power of the Penumbra Flower Full Moon, I struggled to get through the day. I remember feeling suffocated by the enormous life change before me as each minute drew me closer to a last communal goodbye filled with many people I had not seen since Christina's passing on January 3, 2023.

I spent most of the day withdrawing and hiding in the en suite bedroom. I watched as friends and family gathered to begin setting up for the celebration of Christina's life and started taking items from our home to display at the Denver Botanic Gardens. Removing Christina's items from our Sanctuary home was a painful experience and a reminder that nothing moved would ever be returned as Christina had left them. Christina took pride in her environment and meticulously surrounded herself with, as she called it, "beautiful simplicity." She loved a clutter-free home with essential things she cared about. Christina was also very private, and all day, I couldn't help but think about how much she would have hated her things being on display. This experience was a slow death of 1,000 painful papercuts for me and was a swirling metaphor reflecting how much pain and heartbreak I was experiencing at that moment and how much was still yet to come. Christina's books were no longer in the same order she left them. I knew her clothes would no longer hang in the closet exactly how she hung them. I knew the Sanctuary would never feel the same, which broke me. These are the parts of grief and endless love that no one talks about because until you know firsthand, you don't know. These experiences tear you apart because, while the world continually tells you your soul mate is no longer here, your heart, soul, and mind continually tell you otherwise.

One year later, our sanctuary home is empty and quiet this morning, with nothing to plan or do except reflect and remember. While I could never place everything exactly as Christina left it, I have done my best and know that is what Christina would have wanted, only if it made me happy. The reality now is that the grief I feel is more profound, darker, and more hidden than ever. When strangers ask me how I am doing in public, I smile and tell them I am "OK," but the truth is that I am not "OK." I am just better at carrying the enormity of the loss of Christina, and there is an incongruence where my insides never match my outsides. I suppose this incongruence is a similar metaphor for everyone. While things on the outside may look the same, everything inside is completely different.

Christina and I loved the Denver Botanic Gardens; spring was always one of our favorite times of year to spend time together. If you find yourself there in the coming weeks, please scan the QR code on this map of the gardens, which outlines Christina's favorite places. You may see me there, and if you ask me how I am, I will politely smile and tell you I am "OK." To the moon and back, I love you, I miss you, and I miss us. Read less

Scott Burke

2017, Denver, CO, USA

Christina viewing solar eclipse on August 17, 2017

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Megan Swonder

Regina Kilkenny

Makenzie Selland

Magdelana Red

Alexis Kanda-Olmstead

Lory-Ann Varela

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Scott Burke

Totality Promises
I used to think I knew heartbreak, but the past 66 weeks have continually taught me otherwise. In widowhood, life on Earth and in this dimension constantly demands that you move forward. However, how I move now is entirely muted and unfamiliar and feels nothing short of a daily routine of continuous out-of-body experiences. Simultaneously, I hold space in my mind, wondering where my best friend, life partner, and soul mate are and what she is doing. I see, feel, and experience signs everywhere, and as I have met other young widows (typically defined as those who enter widowhood before the age of 55), I recognize I am lucky. Christina and I are always energetically connected in a bond that transcends this world. These signs I see hit like a cosmic wrecking ball of thousands of mixed emotions, memories, and desires that transport me back to the times we shared. Today's solar eclipse makes me wonder if Christina is observing this phenomenon from a different vantage point and holding one shared memory. What other phenomena can Christina now see and experience that I cannot? Although the desire to know is ever present, for now, I must wait in patience and continue to move forward heartbreakingly. 
If Christina were here, where would we be today? We would be in Austin, Texas, watching the solar eclipse in totality after agreeing on August 17, 2017, during the last solar eclipse. On 8/17/17, I played hooky at work and watched the eclipse with Christina on the University of Denver campus. She was in between meetings and could escape her office long enough that we got to watch the solar eclipse together. I remember it like it was yesterday. Christina, being the selenophile she was, wore her favorite moon earrings to commemorate the day, coupled with her custom "blurple" colored hair blowing in the breeze, representing her favorite color, purple, and my favorite color, blue, that her "hair magician," as Christina called her in Fort Collins, whipped up after Christina told her all about us one afternoon. I'll never forget her look when I met her outside her office that day. She was so excited and surprised to see me because it was the start of a new school year, and I rarely had any flexibility in my day. It was all such a lovely moment, now frozen in my memory banks of Christina and I standing there watching the eclipse with our Great Dane, Licorice.
As the eclipse began, we looked at the moon covering the sun. Christina grabbed my hand and said, "I love you to the moon and back. Promise me that during the next solar eclipse, no matter what is happening in our lives, we will travel to observe the eclipse in totality together." I promised, and we stood there in amazement as the birds all went silent as if they were roosting for the night. It was as if a reflective portal opened that day and marked a transition point from one life into another. The 2017-2018 school year was my last at Loveland High School. Throughout that academic year, we gradually relocated to Denver after living north since our time as students at Colorado State University. Once the eclipse was over, Christina had to return to work, and I continued playing hooky with Licorice, walking around the DU campus.
Later that evening, we ate sushi rolls at a local Japanese restaurant because it was the only food we thought resembled the eclipse. Although we had yet to learn when the next eclipse would take place, we agreed to watch it together in totality to see the sun's aura, also known as its corona. Knowing the path of totality today, I am 100% confident we would have viewed today's eclipse from Austin, Texas. I know this because Austin has always held a special place in our hearts and was one of the places Christina and I seriously considered moving after she earned her Ph.D. Christina was a finalist for a job at the University of Texas in 2015. Austin, TX, was also where Christina worked selling Encyclopedias door-to-door during the summer of 1998 before our relationship began. While she said she never made any money doing that job, she spoke fondly about her experiences in Austin. She liked it there even though it was scorching, humid, and mosquito-infested, which Christina hated.
Conversely, Austin and the surrounding school districts are hot spots for the Geometry in Construction program. I was a desirable candidate for open positions in the Austin and Pflugerville Independent School Districts. Austin never panned out for the next chapter of our lives together, and we settled in Denver. 
Bonnie Tyler sang it in 1983 with her hit song, Total Eclipse of the Heart. It spent four weeks atop the Billboard charts and may have the power to summon a generation, as all good music can. I heard this song repeatedly growing up in the 80s, having been one of my step-sister's favorite tunes to dance to, and the verses hit entirely differently now.
"Once upon a time, I was falling in love 
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart."
"Once upon a time, there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart."
I couldn't bring myself to travel to Texas today without Christina, so instead, I will sit on the rooftop deck of our Sanctuary home, wondering if Christina is observing this eclipse from the other side and thinking about me as much as I think about her. To the moon and back, I love you, I miss you, and I miss us.

Totality Promises
I used to think I knew heartbreak, but the past 66 weeks have continually taught me otherwise.... Read more In widowhood, life on Earth and in this dimension constantly demands that you move forward. However, how I move now is entirely muted and unfamiliar and feels nothing short of a daily routine of continuous out-of-body experiences. Simultaneously, I hold space in my mind, wondering where my best friend, life partner, and soul mate are and what she is doing. I see, feel, and experience signs everywhere, and as I have met other young widows (typically defined as those who enter widowhood before the age of 55), I recognize I am lucky. Christina and I are always energetically connected in a bond that transcends this world. These signs I see hit like a cosmic wrecking ball of thousands of mixed emotions, memories, and desires that transport me back to the times we shared. Today's solar eclipse makes me wonder if Christina is observing this phenomenon from a different vantage point and holding one shared memory. What other phenomena can Christina now see and experience that I cannot? Although the desire to know is ever present, for now, I must wait in patience and continue to move forward heartbreakingly.
If Christina were here, where would we be today? We would be in Austin, Texas, watching the solar eclipse in totality after agreeing on August 17, 2017, during the last solar eclipse. On 8/17/17, I played hooky at work and watched the eclipse with Christina on the University of Denver campus. She was in between meetings and could escape her office long enough that we got to watch the solar eclipse together. I remember it like it was yesterday. Christina, being the selenophile she was, wore her favorite moon earrings to commemorate the day, coupled with her custom "blurple" colored hair blowing in the breeze, representing her favorite color, purple, and my favorite color, blue, that her "hair magician," as Christina called her in Fort Collins, whipped up after Christina told her all about us one afternoon. I'll never forget her look when I met her outside her office that day. She was so excited and surprised to see me because it was the start of a new school year, and I rarely had any flexibility in my day. It was all such a lovely moment, now frozen in my memory banks of Christina and I standing there watching the eclipse with our Great Dane, Licorice.
As the eclipse began, we looked at the moon covering the sun. Christina grabbed my hand and said, "I love you to the moon and back. Promise me that during the next solar eclipse, no matter what is happening in our lives, we will travel to observe the eclipse in totality together." I promised, and we stood there in amazement as the birds all went silent as if they were roosting for the night. It was as if a reflective portal opened that day and marked a transition point from one life into another. The 2017-2018 school year was my last at Loveland High School. Throughout that academic year, we gradually relocated to Denver after living north since our time as students at Colorado State University. Once the eclipse was over, Christina had to return to work, and I continued playing hooky with Licorice, walking around the DU campus.
Later that evening, we ate sushi rolls at a local Japanese restaurant because it was the only food we thought resembled the eclipse. Although we had yet to learn when the next eclipse would take place, we agreed to watch it together in totality to see the sun's aura, also known as its corona. Knowing the path of totality today, I am 100% confident we would have viewed today's eclipse from Austin, Texas. I know this because Austin has always held a special place in our hearts and was one of the places Christina and I seriously considered moving after she earned her Ph.D. Christina was a finalist for a job at the University of Texas in 2015. Austin, TX, was also where Christina worked selling Encyclopedias door-to-door during the summer of 1998 before our relationship began. While she said she never made any money doing that job, she spoke fondly about her experiences in Austin. She liked it there even though it was scorching, humid, and mosquito-infested, which Christina hated.
Conversely, Austin and the surrounding school districts are hot spots for the Geometry in Construction program. I was a desirable candidate for open positions in the Austin and Pflugerville Independent School Districts. Austin never panned out for the next chapter of our lives together, and we settled in Denver.
Bonnie Tyler sang it in 1983 with her hit song, Total Eclipse of the Heart. It spent four weeks atop the Billboard charts and may have the power to summon a generation, as all good music can. I heard this song repeatedly growing up in the 80s, having been one of my step-sister's favorite tunes to dance to, and the verses hit entirely differently now.
"Once upon a time, I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart."
"Once upon a time, there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart."
I couldn't bring myself to travel to Texas today without Christina, so instead, I will sit on the rooftop deck of our Sanctuary home, wondering if Christina is observing this eclipse from the other side and thinking about me as much as I think about her. To the moon and back, I love you, I miss you, and I miss us. Read less Totality Promises
I used to think I knew heartbreak, but the past 66 weeks have continually taught me otherwise. In widowhood,... Read more life on Earth and in this dimension constantly demands that you move forward. However, how I move now is entirely muted and unfamiliar and feels nothing short of a daily routine of continuous out-of-body experiences. Simultaneously, I hold space in my mind, wondering where my best friend, life partner, and soul mate are and what she is doing. I see, feel, and experience signs everywhere, and as I have met other young widows (typically defined as those who enter widowhood before the age of 55), I recognize I am lucky. Christina and I are always energetically connected in a bond that transcends this world. These signs I see hit like a cosmic wrecking ball of thousands of mixed emotions, memories, and desires that transport me back to the times we shared. Today's solar eclipse makes me wonder if Christina is observing this phenomenon from a different vantage point and holding one shared memory. What other phenomena can Christina now see and experience that I cannot? Although the desire to know is ever present, for now, I must wait in patience and continue to move forward heartbreakingly.
If Christina were here, where would we be today? We would be in Austin, Texas, watching the solar eclipse in totality after agreeing on August 17, 2017, during the last solar eclipse. On 8/17/17, I played hooky at work and watched the eclipse with Christina on the University of Denver campus. She was in between meetings and could escape her office long enough that we got to watch the solar eclipse together. I remember it like it was yesterday. Christina, being the selenophile she was, wore her favorite moon earrings to commemorate the day, coupled with her custom "blurple" colored hair blowing in the breeze, representing her favorite color, purple, and my favorite color, blue, that her "hair magician," as Christina called her in Fort Collins, whipped up after Christina told her all about us one afternoon. I'll never forget her look when I met her outside her office that day. She was so excited and surprised to see me because it was the start of a new school year, and I rarely had any flexibility in my day. It was all such a lovely moment, now frozen in my memory banks of Christina and I standing there watching the eclipse with our Great Dane, Licorice.
As the eclipse began, we looked at the moon covering the sun. Christina grabbed my hand and said, "I love you to the moon and back. Promise me that during the next solar eclipse, no matter what is happening in our lives, we will travel to observe the eclipse in totality together." I promised, and we stood there in amazement as the birds all went silent as if they were roosting for the night. It was as if a reflective portal opened that day and marked a transition point from one life into another. The 2017-2018 school year was my last at Loveland High School. Throughout that academic year, we gradually relocated to Denver after living north since our time as students at Colorado State University. Once the eclipse was over, Christina had to return to work, and I continued playing hooky with Licorice, walking around the DU campus.
Later that evening, we ate sushi rolls at a local Japanese restaurant because it was the only food we thought resembled the eclipse. Although we had yet to learn when the next eclipse would take place, we agreed to watch it together in totality to see the sun's aura, also known as its corona. Knowing the path of totality today, I am 100% confident we would have viewed today's eclipse from Austin, Texas. I know this because Austin has always held a special place in our hearts and was one of the places Christina and I seriously considered moving after she earned her Ph.D. Christina was a finalist for a job at the University of Texas in 2015. Austin, TX, was also where Christina worked selling Encyclopedias door-to-door during the summer of 1998 before our relationship began. While she said she never made any money doing that job, she spoke fondly about her experiences in Austin. She liked it there even though it was scorching, humid, and mosquito-infested, which Christina hated.
Conversely, Austin and the surrounding school districts are hot spots for the Geometry in Construction program. I was a desirable candidate for open positions in the Austin and Pflugerville Independent School Districts. Austin never panned out for the next chapter of our lives together, and we settled in Denver.
Bonnie Tyler sang it in 1983 with her hit song, Total Eclipse of the Heart. It spent four weeks atop the Billboard charts and may have the power to summon a generation, as all good music can. I heard this song repeatedly growing up in the 80s, having been one of my step-sister's favorite tunes to dance to, and the verses hit entirely differently now.
"Once upon a time, I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart."
"Once upon a time, there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart."
I couldn't bring myself to travel to Texas today without Christina, so instead, I will sit on the rooftop deck of our Sanctuary home, wondering if Christina is observing this eclipse from the other side and thinking about me as much as I think about her. To the moon and back, I love you, I miss you, and I miss us. Read less Totality Promises
I used to think I knew heartbreak,... Read more but the past 66 weeks have continually taught me otherwise. In widowhood, life on Earth and in this dimension constantly demands that you move forward. However, how I move now is entirely muted and unfamiliar and feels nothing short of a daily routine of continuous out-of-body experiences. Simultaneously, I hold space in my mind, wondering where my best friend, life partner, and soul mate are and what she is doing. I see, feel, and experience signs everywhere, and as I have met other young widows (typically defined as those who enter widowhood before the age of 55), I recognize I am lucky. Christina and I are always energetically connected in a bond that transcends this world. These signs I see hit like a cosmic wrecking ball of thousands of mixed emotions, memories, and desires that transport me back to the times we shared. Today's solar eclipse makes me wonder if Christina is observing this phenomenon from a different vantage point and holding one shared memory. What other phenomena can Christina now see and experience that I cannot? Although the desire to know is ever present, for now, I must wait in patience and continue to move forward heartbreakingly.
If Christina were here, where would we be today? We would be in Austin, Texas, watching the solar eclipse in totality after agreeing on August 17, 2017, during the last solar eclipse. On 8/17/17, I played hooky at work and watched the eclipse with Christina on the University of Denver campus. She was in between meetings and could escape her office long enough that we got to watch the solar eclipse together. I remember it like it was yesterday. Christina, being the selenophile she was, wore her favorite moon earrings to commemorate the day, coupled with her custom "blurple" colored hair blowing in the breeze, representing her favorite color, purple, and my favorite color, blue, that her "hair magician," as Christina called her in Fort Collins, whipped up after Christina told her all about us one afternoon. I'll never forget her look when I met her outside her office that day. She was so excited and surprised to see me because it was the start of a new school year, and I rarely had any flexibility in my day. It was all such a lovely moment, now frozen in my memory banks of Christina and I standing there watching the eclipse with our Great Dane, Licorice.
As the eclipse began, we looked at the moon covering the sun. Christina grabbed my hand and said, "I love you to the moon and back. Promise me that during the next solar eclipse, no matter what is happening in our lives, we will travel to observe the eclipse in totality together." I promised, and we stood there in amazement as the birds all went silent as if they were roosting for the night. It was as if a reflective portal opened that day and marked a transition point from one life into another. The 2017-2018 school year was my last at Loveland High School. Throughout that academic year, we gradually relocated to Denver after living north since our time as students at Colorado State University. Once the eclipse was over, Christina had to return to work, and I continued playing hooky with Licorice, walking around the DU campus.
Later that evening, we ate sushi rolls at a local Japanese restaurant because it was the only food we thought resembled the eclipse. Although we had yet to learn when the next eclipse would take place, we agreed to watch it together in totality to see the sun's aura, also known as its corona. Knowing the path of totality today, I am 100% confident we would have viewed today's eclipse from Austin, Texas. I know this because Austin has always held a special place in our hearts and was one of the places Christina and I seriously considered moving after she earned her Ph.D. Christina was a finalist for a job at the University of Texas in 2015. Austin, TX, was also where Christina worked selling Encyclopedias door-to-door during the summer of 1998 before our relationship began. While she said she never made any money doing that job, she spoke fondly about her experiences in Austin. She liked it there even though it was scorching, humid, and mosquito-infested, which Christina hated.
Conversely, Austin and the surrounding school districts are hot spots for the Geometry in Construction program. I was a desirable candidate for open positions in the Austin and Pflugerville Independent School Districts. Austin never panned out for the next chapter of our lives together, and we settled in Denver.
Bonnie Tyler sang it in 1983 with her hit song, Total Eclipse of the Heart. It spent four weeks atop the Billboard charts and may have the power to summon a generation, as all good music can. I heard this song repeatedly growing up in the 80s, having been one of my step-sister's favorite tunes to dance to, and the verses hit entirely differently now.
"Once upon a time, I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart."
"Once upon a time, there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart."
I couldn't bring myself to travel to Texas today without Christina, so instead, I will sit on the rooftop deck of our Sanctuary home, wondering if Christina is observing this eclipse from the other side and thinking about me as much as I think about her. To the moon and back, I love you, I miss you, and I miss us. Read less

Alexis Kanda-Olmstead

Thank you for this memory and glimpse into the inner world you inhabit, alone and together with Christina.... Read more Thank you for this memory and glimpse into the inner world you inhabit, alone and together with Christina. I miss her always. Thank you for this memory and glimpse into the inner... Read more

Andrea Stanton

I think of Christina so frequently, Scott, and talk with her in my head regularly. Thank you for sharing ... Read more I think of Christina so frequently, Scott, and talk with her in my head regularly. Thank you for sharing so many beautiful (and... Read more I think of Christina so frequently, Scott, and talk... Read more

Alexis Kanda-Olmstead

Today I am holding you all in my heart.

Christina, whenever the clock turns 11:11 or 12:34, I know you are saying hello and smiling, a bit mischievously, telling me that I am loved and already perfect and to keep growing into the best person I can be.

Scott, whenever I read one of your posts, my heart opens and I send love across the country straight to you. I bask in the memories of Christina, and I am grateful to you for sharing them.

Friends and family, whenever I think of Christina's legacy, I think of you.

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Scott Burke

Megan Swonder

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Scott Burke

2022, Denver, CO, USA

Christina and "The Littles" enjoying some home cooking.

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Makenzie Selland

Andrea Karapas

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Scott Burke

"Little Investments"

As I continue to watch time pass from the sidelines of life for the time being, there are recent events where I silently hold conversations with Christina as if she were still physically here. These conversations have involved two of our friends, Alex and Chelsea Adkisson, whom Christina affectionately nicknamed the "Littles." During these events, I have caught myself saying, "Babe, you should be here. Look what the" Littles" have done." Undoubtedly, once I have these thoughts, I instantly picture Christina smiling back at me with her big, beautiful eyes and the confident and proud look she had about her, all while verbally recasting praise upon everyone else who contributed to their achievements, never taking any credit for her contributions towards others successes. Everyone who knew Christina well knows she hated the spotlight being on her, and I am confident she would disapprove of me continuing to share stories about the person she was and how she navigated the world.

Christina loved and studied languages of different cultures and ethnicities as a hobby. Although she never spoke any other languages fluently, she did have a considerable repertoire of words and sayings from other languages she incorporated into her conversations and private writings. While Christina had complete mastery of the English language, she always felt like some languages were better at describing the true essence and deep meaning within the human experience. Having grown up with parents employed in the civil service and moving every two to three years throughout her childhood, Christina's lifeline to the world was always through language. This double-edged sword served a dual purpose. Balancing on one edge, Christina had to learn the English language early in life for family survival. In contrast, on the second edge, Christina mastered English because she could consistently ground to it during the turbulence of life reading books and writing.

Early in my teaching career, there was a familiar saying educators and the public embraced, which was, "It takes a village to raise a child." This quote was popularized in the mid-1990s by Hillary Rodham Clinton. I first heard it while working on my degree to become a licensed teacher. I can remember sharing it with Christina early in our relationship and her asking me, "Do you know the true origin of that saying?" I replied, "No, do you?" Christina then went on to tell me the origin of that saying comes from many African societies. One of Christina's superpowers was her keen ear for sounds. She could pick up accents quickly and impress native speakers of almost any language. Christina eloquently recited a Swahili proverb, "Asiye funzwa na mamae hufunzwa na ulimwengu." I asked what the translation was, and Christina told me, "Whomsoever is not taught by the mother will be taught by the world." Christina explained that this is a common proverb that many say inspired the quote I had heard in class; however, she explained that her favorite version is lesser known. Christina recited, "Omwana takulila nju emoi," which comes from a powerful kingdom that used to rule western Uganda called Lunyoro or Banyoro, and translated to "A child does not grow up only in a single home."

Being early in our relationship, Christina told me about her childhood and the people who helped her grow up along the way. She talked about mentors, teachers, and close family friends, commonly called aunties and uncles. Throughout many Asian cultures, being called an auntie or uncle is a sign of respect and someone your parents typically embrace as a quality person entrusted with helping to raise and care for a child. These aunties and uncles are seldom of blood relation and are usually members of the "Framily" (Friends who are more like family) circle. Christina had many aunties and uncles growing up and valued each of them and the lessons they imparted to her.

Alex and Chelsea are members of Christina and my "Framily." Alex and Christina's friendship began when Alex was a sophomore in my class at Loveland High School in 2005 during the first year of Geometry in Construction and blossomed into a unique and independent friendship when Alex started his undergraduate pursuits at Colorado State University (CSU). Christina worked at CSU before eventually leaving CSU to pursue her Ph.D. at the University of Colorado Boulder campus. After all Christina's changes growing up and moving worldwide, she always had a soft spot in her heart for everyone in transition. Having house and dog sat for us numerous times throughout his high school career, Alex received many informal lunch dates with Christina, where they visited about life and difficulties he was having in school and life. Christina connected Alex to different resources, faculty, and services on campus based on these discussions. She helped Alex with scholarships, assignments, cover letters, and job applications. During Alex's senior year at CSU, and after we knew Alex had secured employment at Loveland High School to begin his teaching career, Christina said, "Alex is awesome, and someday he is going to outshine and far surpass anything each of us has ever done." We both smiled that day as Alex walked across the stage to receive his undergraduate degree in Engineering.

Alex and Chelsea married a few months later, at which point Christina affectionately started referring to them collectively as the "Littles." In conversation with others, I always heard Christina refer to Alex as "Little Mr. A" and Chelsea as "Little Chickadee." What's funny about this now is that no one ever knew why Christina called them the "Littles."

Christina had affectionate nicknames for everyone. Babe (that's me), Homefry, Amizzle, Bunny Rabbit, KaileyPants, Amiga, A-train, Big Pinks, and Crafrister are a sampling of a few of the many nicknames I would hear her mention in conversation over the years. On April 25th, I shared a story about Christina's OPP folder. Christina referred to anyone with a file within the OPP folder as "Little," followed by their nickname. When I asked Christina about this, she always said it was because she was helping them to achieve whatever their hearts desired. While the file was labeled the OPP folder, Christina always referred to it as her way of making "Little Investments" towards the magnificence of humankind. Now more than ever, I hope Christina's spirit smiles upon us all with pride for the "Little Investments" she made in so many people during her time here on Earth. To the moon and back, your "Little Investments" continue to pay huge dividends, and you made the world a better place.

"Little Investments"

As I continue to watch time pass from the sidelines of life for the time being, there... Read more are recent events where I silently hold conversations with Christina as if she were still physically here. These conversations have involved two of our friends, Alex and Chelsea Adkisson, whom Christina affectionately nicknamed the "Littles." During these events, I have caught myself saying, "Babe, you should be here. Look what the" Littles" have done." Undoubtedly, once I have these thoughts, I instantly picture Christina smiling back at me with her big, beautiful eyes and the confident and proud look she had about her, all while verbally recasting praise upon everyone else who contributed to their achievements, never taking any credit for her contributions towards others successes. Everyone who knew Christina well knows she hated the spotlight being on her, and I am confident she would disapprove of me continuing to share stories about the person she was and how she navigated the world.

Christina loved and studied languages of different cultures and ethnicities as a hobby. Although she never spoke any other languages fluently, she did have a considerable repertoire of words and sayings from other languages she incorporated into her conversations and private writings. While Christina had complete mastery of the English language, she always felt like some languages were better at describing the true essence and deep meaning within the human experience. Having grown up with parents employed in the civil service and moving every two to three years throughout her childhood, Christina's lifeline to the world was always through language. This double-edged sword served a dual purpose. Balancing on one edge, Christina had to learn the English language early in life for family survival. In contrast, on the second edge, Christina mastered English because she could consistently ground to it during the turbulence of life reading books and writing.

Early in my teaching career, there was a familiar saying educators and the public embraced, which was, "It takes a village to raise a child." This quote was popularized in the mid-1990s by Hillary Rodham Clinton. I first heard it while working on my degree to become a licensed teacher. I can remember sharing it with Christina early in our relationship and her asking me, "Do you know the true origin of that saying?" I replied, "No, do you?" Christina then went on to tell me the origin of that saying comes from many African societies. One of Christina's superpowers was her keen ear for sounds. She could pick up accents quickly and impress native speakers of almost any language. Christina eloquently recited a Swahili proverb, "Asiye funzwa na mamae hufunzwa na ulimwengu." I asked what the translation was, and Christina told me, "Whomsoever is not taught by the mother will be taught by the world." Christina explained that this is a common proverb that many say inspired the quote I had heard in class; however, she explained that her favorite version is lesser known. Christina recited, "Omwana takulila nju emoi," which comes from a powerful kingdom that used to rule western Uganda called Lunyoro or Banyoro, and translated to "A child does not grow up only in a single home."

Being early in our relationship, Christina told me about her childhood and the people who helped her grow up along the way. She talked about mentors, teachers, and close family friends, commonly called aunties and uncles. Throughout many Asian cultures, being called an auntie or uncle is a sign of respect and someone your parents typically embrace as a quality person entrusted with helping to raise and care for a child. These aunties and uncles are seldom of blood relation and are usually members of the "Framily" (Friends who are more like family) circle. Christina had many aunties and uncles growing up and valued each of them and the lessons they imparted to her.

Alex and Chelsea are members of Christina and my "Framily." Alex and Christina's friendship began when Alex was a sophomore in my class at Loveland High School in 2005 during the first year of Geometry in Construction and blossomed into a unique and independent friendship when Alex started his undergraduate pursuits at Colorado State University (CSU). Christina worked at CSU before eventually leaving CSU to pursue her Ph.D. at the University of Colorado Boulder campus. After all Christina's changes growing up and moving worldwide, she always had a soft spot in her heart for everyone in transition. Having house and dog sat for us numerous times throughout his high school career, Alex received many informal lunch dates with Christina, where they visited about life and difficulties he was having in school and life. Christina connected Alex to different resources, faculty, and services on campus based on these discussions. She helped Alex with scholarships, assignments, cover letters, and job applications. During Alex's senior year at CSU, and after we knew Alex had secured employment at Loveland High School to begin his teaching career, Christina said, "Alex is awesome, and someday he is going to outshine and far surpass anything each of us has ever done." We both smiled that day as Alex walked across the stage to receive his undergraduate degree in Engineering.

Alex and Chelsea married a few months later, at which point Christina affectionately started referring to them collectively as the "Littles." In conversation with others, I always heard Christina refer to Alex as "Little Mr. A" and Chelsea as "Little Chickadee." What's funny about this now is that no one ever knew why Christina called them the "Littles."

Christina had affectionate nicknames for everyone. Babe (that's me), Homefry, Amizzle, Bunny Rabbit, KaileyPants, Amiga, A-train, Big Pinks, and Crafrister are a sampling of a few of the many nicknames I would hear her mention in conversation over the years. On April 25th, I shared a story about Christina's OPP folder. Christina referred to anyone with a file within the OPP folder as "Little," followed by their nickname. When I asked Christina about this, she always said it was because she was helping them to achieve whatever their hearts desired. While the file was labeled the OPP folder, Christina always referred to it as her way of making "Little Investments" towards the magnificence of humankind. Now more than ever, I hope Christina's spirit smiles upon us all with pride for the "Little Investments" she made in so many people during her time here on Earth. To the moon and back, your "Little Investments" continue to pay huge dividends, and you made the world a better place. Read less "Little Investments"

As I continue to watch time pass from the sidelines of life for the time being, there are recent events... Read more where I silently hold conversations with Christina as if she were still physically here. These conversations have involved two of our friends, Alex and Chelsea Adkisson, whom Christina affectionately nicknamed the "Littles." During these events, I have caught myself saying, "Babe, you should be here. Look what the" Littles" have done." Undoubtedly, once I have these thoughts, I instantly picture Christina smiling back at me with her big, beautiful eyes and the confident and proud look she had about her, all while verbally recasting praise upon everyone else who contributed to their achievements, never taking any credit for her contributions towards others successes. Everyone who knew Christina well knows she hated the spotlight being on her, and I am confident she would disapprove of me continuing to share stories about the person she was and how she navigated the world.

Christina loved and studied languages of different cultures and ethnicities as a hobby. Although she never spoke any other languages fluently, she did have a considerable repertoire of words and sayings from other languages she incorporated into her conversations and private writings. While Christina had complete mastery of the English language, she always felt like some languages were better at describing the true essence and deep meaning within the human experience. Having grown up with parents employed in the civil service and moving every two to three years throughout her childhood, Christina's lifeline to the world was always through language. This double-edged sword served a dual purpose. Balancing on one edge, Christina had to learn the English language early in life for family survival. In contrast, on the second edge, Christina mastered English because she could consistently ground to it during the turbulence of life reading books and writing.

Early in my teaching career, there was a familiar saying educators and the public embraced, which was, "It takes a village to raise a child." This quote was popularized in the mid-1990s by Hillary Rodham Clinton. I first heard it while working on my degree to become a licensed teacher. I can remember sharing it with Christina early in our relationship and her asking me, "Do you know the true origin of that saying?" I replied, "No, do you?" Christina then went on to tell me the origin of that saying comes from many African societies. One of Christina's superpowers was her keen ear for sounds. She could pick up accents quickly and impress native speakers of almost any language. Christina eloquently recited a Swahili proverb, "Asiye funzwa na mamae hufunzwa na ulimwengu." I asked what the translation was, and Christina told me, "Whomsoever is not taught by the mother will be taught by the world." Christina explained that this is a common proverb that many say inspired the quote I had heard in class; however, she explained that her favorite version is lesser known. Christina recited, "Omwana takulila nju emoi," which comes from a powerful kingdom that used to rule western Uganda called Lunyoro or Banyoro, and translated to "A child does not grow up only in a single home."

Being early in our relationship, Christina told me about her childhood and the people who helped her grow up along the way. She talked about mentors, teachers, and close family friends, commonly called aunties and uncles. Throughout many Asian cultures, being called an auntie or uncle is a sign of respect and someone your parents typically embrace as a quality person entrusted with helping to raise and care for a child. These aunties and uncles are seldom of blood relation and are usually members of the "Framily" (Friends who are more like family) circle. Christina had many aunties and uncles growing up and valued each of them and the lessons they imparted to her.

Alex and Chelsea are members of Christina and my "Framily." Alex and Christina's friendship began when Alex was a sophomore in my class at Loveland High School in 2005 during the first year of Geometry in Construction and blossomed into a unique and independent friendship when Alex started his undergraduate pursuits at Colorado State University (CSU). Christina worked at CSU before eventually leaving CSU to pursue her Ph.D. at the University of Colorado Boulder campus. After all Christina's changes growing up and moving worldwide, she always had a soft spot in her heart for everyone in transition. Having house and dog sat for us numerous times throughout his high school career, Alex received many informal lunch dates with Christina, where they visited about life and difficulties he was having in school and life. Christina connected Alex to different resources, faculty, and services on campus based on these discussions. She helped Alex with scholarships, assignments, cover letters, and job applications. During Alex's senior year at CSU, and after we knew Alex had secured employment at Loveland High School to begin his teaching career, Christina said, "Alex is awesome, and someday he is going to outshine and far surpass anything each of us has ever done." We both smiled that day as Alex walked across the stage to receive his undergraduate degree in Engineering.

Alex and Chelsea married a few months later, at which point Christina affectionately started referring to them collectively as the "Littles." In conversation with others, I always heard Christina refer to Alex as "Little Mr. A" and Chelsea as "Little Chickadee." What's funny about this now is that no one ever knew why Christina called them the "Littles."

Christina had affectionate nicknames for everyone. Babe (that's me), Homefry, Amizzle, Bunny Rabbit, KaileyPants, Amiga, A-train, Big Pinks, and Crafrister are a sampling of a few of the many nicknames I would hear her mention in conversation over the years. On April 25th, I shared a story about Christina's OPP folder. Christina referred to anyone with a file within the OPP folder as "Little," followed by their nickname. When I asked Christina about this, she always said it was because she was helping them to achieve whatever their hearts desired. While the file was labeled the OPP folder, Christina always referred to it as her way of making "Little Investments" towards the magnificence of humankind. Now more than ever, I hope Christina's spirit smiles upon us all with pride for the "Little Investments" she made in so many people during her time here on Earth. To the moon and back, your "Little Investments" continue to pay huge dividends, and you made the world a better place. Read less "Little Investments"

As I continue to watch time... Read more pass from the sidelines of life for the time being, there are recent events where I silently hold conversations with Christina as if she were still physically here. These conversations have involved two of our friends, Alex and Chelsea Adkisson, whom Christina affectionately nicknamed the "Littles." During these events, I have caught myself saying, "Babe, you should be here. Look what the" Littles" have done." Undoubtedly, once I have these thoughts, I instantly picture Christina smiling back at me with her big, beautiful eyes and the confident and proud look she had about her, all while verbally recasting praise upon everyone else who contributed to their achievements, never taking any credit for her contributions towards others successes. Everyone who knew Christina well knows she hated the spotlight being on her, and I am confident she would disapprove of me continuing to share stories about the person she was and how she navigated the world.

Christina loved and studied languages of different cultures and ethnicities as a hobby. Although she never spoke any other languages fluently, she did have a considerable repertoire of words and sayings from other languages she incorporated into her conversations and private writings. While Christina had complete mastery of the English language, she always felt like some languages were better at describing the true essence and deep meaning within the human experience. Having grown up with parents employed in the civil service and moving every two to three years throughout her childhood, Christina's lifeline to the world was always through language. This double-edged sword served a dual purpose. Balancing on one edge, Christina had to learn the English language early in life for family survival. In contrast, on the second edge, Christina mastered English because she could consistently ground to it during the turbulence of life reading books and writing.

Early in my teaching career, there was a familiar saying educators and the public embraced, which was, "It takes a village to raise a child." This quote was popularized in the mid-1990s by Hillary Rodham Clinton. I first heard it while working on my degree to become a licensed teacher. I can remember sharing it with Christina early in our relationship and her asking me, "Do you know the true origin of that saying?" I replied, "No, do you?" Christina then went on to tell me the origin of that saying comes from many African societies. One of Christina's superpowers was her keen ear for sounds. She could pick up accents quickly and impress native speakers of almost any language. Christina eloquently recited a Swahili proverb, "Asiye funzwa na mamae hufunzwa na ulimwengu." I asked what the translation was, and Christina told me, "Whomsoever is not taught by the mother will be taught by the world." Christina explained that this is a common proverb that many say inspired the quote I had heard in class; however, she explained that her favorite version is lesser known. Christina recited, "Omwana takulila nju emoi," which comes from a powerful kingdom that used to rule western Uganda called Lunyoro or Banyoro, and translated to "A child does not grow up only in a single home."

Being early in our relationship, Christina told me about her childhood and the people who helped her grow up along the way. She talked about mentors, teachers, and close family friends, commonly called aunties and uncles. Throughout many Asian cultures, being called an auntie or uncle is a sign of respect and someone your parents typically embrace as a quality person entrusted with helping to raise and care for a child. These aunties and uncles are seldom of blood relation and are usually members of the "Framily" (Friends who are more like family) circle. Christina had many aunties and uncles growing up and valued each of them and the lessons they imparted to her.

Alex and Chelsea are members of Christina and my "Framily." Alex and Christina's friendship began when Alex was a sophomore in my class at Loveland High School in 2005 during the first year of Geometry in Construction and blossomed into a unique and independent friendship when Alex started his undergraduate pursuits at Colorado State University (CSU). Christina worked at CSU before eventually leaving CSU to pursue her Ph.D. at the University of Colorado Boulder campus. After all Christina's changes growing up and moving worldwide, she always had a soft spot in her heart for everyone in transition. Having house and dog sat for us numerous times throughout his high school career, Alex received many informal lunch dates with Christina, where they visited about life and difficulties he was having in school and life. Christina connected Alex to different resources, faculty, and services on campus based on these discussions. She helped Alex with scholarships, assignments, cover letters, and job applications. During Alex's senior year at CSU, and after we knew Alex had secured employment at Loveland High School to begin his teaching career, Christina said, "Alex is awesome, and someday he is going to outshine and far surpass anything each of us has ever done." We both smiled that day as Alex walked across the stage to receive his undergraduate degree in Engineering.

Alex and Chelsea married a few months later, at which point Christina affectionately started referring to them collectively as the "Littles." In conversation with others, I always heard Christina refer to Alex as "Little Mr. A" and Chelsea as "Little Chickadee." What's funny about this now is that no one ever knew why Christina called them the "Littles."

Christina had affectionate nicknames for everyone. Babe (that's me), Homefry, Amizzle, Bunny Rabbit, KaileyPants, Amiga, A-train, Big Pinks, and Crafrister are a sampling of a few of the many nicknames I would hear her mention in conversation over the years. On April 25th, I shared a story about Christina's OPP folder. Christina referred to anyone with a file within the OPP folder as "Little," followed by their nickname. When I asked Christina about this, she always said it was because she was helping them to achieve whatever their hearts desired. While the file was labeled the OPP folder, Christina always referred to it as her way of making "Little Investments" towards the magnificence of humankind. Now more than ever, I hope Christina's spirit smiles upon us all with pride for the "Little Investments" she made in so many people during her time here on Earth. To the moon and back, your "Little Investments" continue to pay huge dividends, and you made the world a better place. Read less

Katy Ford

She was so special. She was so special. She was so special.

Scott Burke

2008, Fort Collins, CO, USA

On October 28, 2008, Christina and several friends saw Presidential Candidate Barack Obama speak at our Alma Matter, Colorado State University.

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Scott Burke

Responsibility of Citizenship
Written and posted on May 31, I shared Christina's immigration story and how she beautifully compared her and her mother's journey to the United States to a charm of hummingbirds. This memory hit me extremely hard late last week as I filled out my mail-in ballot alone for the first time in over twenty-three years. While I have always had the privilege of being a United States citizen from birth, I can look back at my entire relationship with Christina with endless admiration, respect, love, and gratitude because she constantly challenged me to be a better man. The following Christina sharing is personal and central to who Christina and I always were as a couple and one way we participated in our democracy.
What does it mean to be a responsible citizen? Christina believed civic responsibility was paramount to the success of democracy and philanthropy and was central to the very idea behind the United States of America. Contrary to some popular beliefs, there is no such thing as a non-election year. Many United States citizens misunderstand an "off-year" or "off-cycle" election year as meaning there is no election that year, when, in reality, the terms "off-cycle" and "off-year" mean there is no presidential or mid-term election taking place for specific candidates. During these "off-cycle" or "off years," many essential ballot initiatives and measures still happen so We, the People, can participate and voice educated opinions as a citizen by casting our votes. Participation in annual elections was always one way Christina and I profoundly connected and demonstrated our commitment to our democracy and the idea of E Pluribus Unum (Latin for: Out of many, one.). Whether you politically leaned to the right, left, or independent, Christina welcomed everyone into her charm of hummingbirds through participation in their civic responsibility. Christina always said in her kind and loving way to people who complained about politics but didn't vote that they shouldn't complain because they didn't participate. People who complained about candidates, taxes, initiatives, constitutional amendments, or the state of affairs in the country while not casting a vote in any direction received a scolding remark from Christina where she would end a conversation by simply saying, "Don't bitch if you don't participate when given the opportunity." 
Every fall, when we received our mail-in ballots, Christina and I would set up what we referred to as our annual Civic Duty Date. We would select an evening to order pizza and spend the entire evening combing through candidates and ballot initiatives. The pizza ordering was special to both of us because we started this tradition together in 1999 while we were in the first months of our relationship. As the years passed, our Civic Duty Date Night eventually became the only time we would order pizza delivery each year, almost as if our tastes changed as we matured together over the decades. Once the pizza arrived, we would sit down with our beverage of choice, black ink pens, all the voter guides we received in the mail, red chili pepper flakes for Christina as well as her signature huge bottle of Tabasco sauce, and our laptops to research and dive into the issues. Some years, these dates could last well into the wee hours of the morning because we were both committed to filling out ballots together, and 99.99% of the time, we eventually would come to a consensus on an issue and vote in agreement. The only 0.01% disagreement we ever had where we voted in opposition to one another was over the legalization of marijuana in Colorado.
Christina was a researcher at heart long before earning a Ph.D. in 2014. Christina would dig and dig and dig into the issues and candidates, and we affectionately called it her "Dog with a Bone" mentality. We found common ground in each of our "Dog with a Bone" mentalities in different ways. I always read through the legal description of the initiatives and ballot measures because, for some reason, this has always really made sense to me. Christina, on the other hand, always chose to comb through all the pro and con endorsements for each initiative, choosing to follow the money trail of who is sponsoring different measures and initiatives. Together, we would have stimulating conversations about everything on the ballot for that respective year. If I were advising a young couple getting married for the first time, I would tell them to find a soul mate willing to participate with them in every aspect of life. Christina and I always turned voting and civic responsibility into an enjoyable activity we did together, which was one way we connected. I share this post today, hoping everyone will participate in their civic duty by returning your mail-in ballots or casting your votes in person by Tuesday, November 7. 
Filling out my mail-in ballot this year was another duty on the endless list of the widower's year of firsts. For anyone who has never had to participate in a year of firsts like this, unfortunately, I can tell you it is as terrible as you can imagine. Everywhere you turn, there are painful reminders of your life together as a couple and what you used to do as a cohesive unit. In complete transparency, filling out my ballot this year took me a long time to research the initiatives and decide how to cast my votes. The perpetual question in my thoughts was, "What would Christina think about this?"  I never thought I would send in a tear-stained ballot to complete my civic responsibility. To the moon and back, I love you, and I miss our conversations as we fulfilled our duties as citizens of the United States.

Responsibility of Citizenship
Written and posted on May 31, I shared Christina's immigration story and how... Read more she beautifully compared her and her mother's journey to the United States to a charm of hummingbirds. This memory hit me extremely hard late last week as I filled out my mail-in ballot alone for the first time in over twenty-three years. While I have always had the privilege of being a United States citizen from birth, I can look back at my entire relationship with Christina with endless admiration, respect, love, and gratitude because she constantly challenged me to be a better man. The following Christina sharing is personal and central to who Christina and I always were as a couple and one way we participated in our democracy.
What does it mean to be a responsible citizen? Christina believed civic responsibility was paramount to the success of democracy and philanthropy and was central to the very idea behind the United States of America. Contrary to some popular beliefs, there is no such thing as a non-election year. Many United States citizens misunderstand an "off-year" or "off-cycle" election year as meaning there is no election that year, when, in reality, the terms "off-cycle" and "off-year" mean there is no presidential or mid-term election taking place for specific candidates. During these "off-cycle" or "off years," many essential ballot initiatives and measures still happen so We, the People, can participate and voice educated opinions as a citizen by casting our votes. Participation in annual elections was always one way Christina and I profoundly connected and demonstrated our commitment to our democracy and the idea of E Pluribus Unum (Latin for: Out of many, one.). Whether you politically leaned to the right, left, or independent, Christina welcomed everyone into her charm of hummingbirds through participation in their civic responsibility. Christina always said in her kind and loving way to people who complained about politics but didn't vote that they shouldn't complain because they didn't participate. People who complained about candidates, taxes, initiatives, constitutional amendments, or the state of affairs in the country while not casting a vote in any direction received a scolding remark from Christina where she would end a conversation by simply saying, "Don't bitch if you don't participate when given the opportunity."
Every fall, when we received our mail-in ballots, Christina and I would set up what we referred to as our annual Civic Duty Date. We would select an evening to order pizza and spend the entire evening combing through candidates and ballot initiatives. The pizza ordering was special to both of us because we started this tradition together in 1999 while we were in the first months of our relationship. As the years passed, our Civic Duty Date Night eventually became the only time we would order pizza delivery each year, almost as if our tastes changed as we matured together over the decades. Once the pizza arrived, we would sit down with our beverage of choice, black ink pens, all the voter guides we received in the mail, red chili pepper flakes for Christina as well as her signature huge bottle of Tabasco sauce, and our laptops to research and dive into the issues. Some years, these dates could last well into the wee hours of the morning because we were both committed to filling out ballots together, and 99.99% of the time, we eventually would come to a consensus on an issue and vote in agreement. The only 0.01% disagreement we ever had where we voted in opposition to one another was over the legalization of marijuana in Colorado.
Christina was a researcher at heart long before earning a Ph.D. in 2014. Christina would dig and dig and dig into the issues and candidates, and we affectionately called it her "Dog with a Bone" mentality. We found common ground in each of our "Dog with a Bone" mentalities in different ways. I always read through the legal description of the initiatives and ballot measures because, for some reason, this has always really made sense to me. Christina, on the other hand, always chose to comb through all the pro and con endorsements for each initiative, choosing to follow the money trail of who is sponsoring different measures and initiatives. Together, we would have stimulating conversations about everything on the ballot for that respective year. If I were advising a young couple getting married for the first time, I would tell them to find a soul mate willing to participate with them in every aspect of life. Christina and I always turned voting and civic responsibility into an enjoyable activity we did together, which was one way we connected. I share this post today, hoping everyone will participate in their civic duty by returning your mail-in ballots or casting your votes in person by Tuesday, November 7.
Filling out my mail-in ballot this year was another duty on the endless list of the widower's year of firsts. For anyone who has never had to participate in a year of firsts like this, unfortunately, I can tell you it is as terrible as you can imagine. Everywhere you turn, there are painful reminders of your life together as a couple and what you used to do as a cohesive unit. In complete transparency, filling out my ballot this year took me a long time to research the initiatives and decide how to cast my votes. The perpetual question in my thoughts was, "What would Christina think about this?" I never thought I would send in a tear-stained ballot to complete my civic responsibility. To the moon and back, I love you, and I miss our conversations as we fulfilled our duties as citizens of the United States. Read less Responsibility of Citizenship
Written and posted on May 31, I shared Christina's immigration story and how she beautifully compared... Read more her and her mother's journey to the United States to a charm of hummingbirds. This memory hit me extremely hard late last week as I filled out my mail-in ballot alone for the first time in over twenty-three years. While I have always had the privilege of being a United States citizen from birth, I can look back at my entire relationship with Christina with endless admiration, respect, love, and gratitude because she constantly challenged me to be a better man. The following Christina sharing is personal and central to who Christina and I always were as a couple and one way we participated in our democracy.
What does it mean to be a responsible citizen? Christina believed civic responsibility was paramount to the success of democracy and philanthropy and was central to the very idea behind the United States of America. Contrary to some popular beliefs, there is no such thing as a non-election year. Many United States citizens misunderstand an "off-year" or "off-cycle" election year as meaning there is no election that year, when, in reality, the terms "off-cycle" and "off-year" mean there is no presidential or mid-term election taking place for specific candidates. During these "off-cycle" or "off years," many essential ballot initiatives and measures still happen so We, the People, can participate and voice educated opinions as a citizen by casting our votes. Participation in annual elections was always one way Christina and I profoundly connected and demonstrated our commitment to our democracy and the idea of E Pluribus Unum (Latin for: Out of many, one.). Whether you politically leaned to the right, left, or independent, Christina welcomed everyone into her charm of hummingbirds through participation in their civic responsibility. Christina always said in her kind and loving way to people who complained about politics but didn't vote that they shouldn't complain because they didn't participate. People who complained about candidates, taxes, initiatives, constitutional amendments, or the state of affairs in the country while not casting a vote in any direction received a scolding remark from Christina where she would end a conversation by simply saying, "Don't bitch if you don't participate when given the opportunity."
Every fall, when we received our mail-in ballots, Christina and I would set up what we referred to as our annual Civic Duty Date. We would select an evening to order pizza and spend the entire evening combing through candidates and ballot initiatives. The pizza ordering was special to both of us because we started this tradition together in 1999 while we were in the first months of our relationship. As the years passed, our Civic Duty Date Night eventually became the only time we would order pizza delivery each year, almost as if our tastes changed as we matured together over the decades. Once the pizza arrived, we would sit down with our beverage of choice, black ink pens, all the voter guides we received in the mail, red chili pepper flakes for Christina as well as her signature huge bottle of Tabasco sauce, and our laptops to research and dive into the issues. Some years, these dates could last well into the wee hours of the morning because we were both committed to filling out ballots together, and 99.99% of the time, we eventually would come to a consensus on an issue and vote in agreement. The only 0.01% disagreement we ever had where we voted in opposition to one another was over the legalization of marijuana in Colorado.
Christina was a researcher at heart long before earning a Ph.D. in 2014. Christina would dig and dig and dig into the issues and candidates, and we affectionately called it her "Dog with a Bone" mentality. We found common ground in each of our "Dog with a Bone" mentalities in different ways. I always read through the legal description of the initiatives and ballot measures because, for some reason, this has always really made sense to me. Christina, on the other hand, always chose to comb through all the pro and con endorsements for each initiative, choosing to follow the money trail of who is sponsoring different measures and initiatives. Together, we would have stimulating conversations about everything on the ballot for that respective year. If I were advising a young couple getting married for the first time, I would tell them to find a soul mate willing to participate with them in every aspect of life. Christina and I always turned voting and civic responsibility into an enjoyable activity we did together, which was one way we connected. I share this post today, hoping everyone will participate in their civic duty by returning your mail-in ballots or casting your votes in person by Tuesday, November 7.
Filling out my mail-in ballot this year was another duty on the endless list of the widower's year of firsts. For anyone who has never had to participate in a year of firsts like this, unfortunately, I can tell you it is as terrible as you can imagine. Everywhere you turn, there are painful reminders of your life together as a couple and what you used to do as a cohesive unit. In complete transparency, filling out my ballot this year took me a long time to research the initiatives and decide how to cast my votes. The perpetual question in my thoughts was, "What would Christina think about this?" I never thought I would send in a tear-stained ballot to complete my civic responsibility. To the moon and back, I love you, and I miss our conversations as we fulfilled our duties as citizens of the United States. Read less Responsibility of Citizenship
Written and posted on... Read more May 31, I shared Christina's immigration story and how she beautifully compared her and her mother's journey to the United States to a charm of hummingbirds. This memory hit me extremely hard late last week as I filled out my mail-in ballot alone for the first time in over twenty-three years. While I have always had the privilege of being a United States citizen from birth, I can look back at my entire relationship with Christina with endless admiration, respect, love, and gratitude because she constantly challenged me to be a better man. The following Christina sharing is personal and central to who Christina and I always were as a couple and one way we participated in our democracy.
What does it mean to be a responsible citizen? Christina believed civic responsibility was paramount to the success of democracy and philanthropy and was central to the very idea behind the United States of America. Contrary to some popular beliefs, there is no such thing as a non-election year. Many United States citizens misunderstand an "off-year" or "off-cycle" election year as meaning there is no election that year, when, in reality, the terms "off-cycle" and "off-year" mean there is no presidential or mid-term election taking place for specific candidates. During these "off-cycle" or "off years," many essential ballot initiatives and measures still happen so We, the People, can participate and voice educated opinions as a citizen by casting our votes. Participation in annual elections was always one way Christina and I profoundly connected and demonstrated our commitment to our democracy and the idea of E Pluribus Unum (Latin for: Out of many, one.). Whether you politically leaned to the right, left, or independent, Christina welcomed everyone into her charm of hummingbirds through participation in their civic responsibility. Christina always said in her kind and loving way to people who complained about politics but didn't vote that they shouldn't complain because they didn't participate. People who complained about candidates, taxes, initiatives, constitutional amendments, or the state of affairs in the country while not casting a vote in any direction received a scolding remark from Christina where she would end a conversation by simply saying, "Don't bitch if you don't participate when given the opportunity."
Every fall, when we received our mail-in ballots, Christina and I would set up what we referred to as our annual Civic Duty Date. We would select an evening to order pizza and spend the entire evening combing through candidates and ballot initiatives. The pizza ordering was special to both of us because we started this tradition together in 1999 while we were in the first months of our relationship. As the years passed, our Civic Duty Date Night eventually became the only time we would order pizza delivery each year, almost as if our tastes changed as we matured together over the decades. Once the pizza arrived, we would sit down with our beverage of choice, black ink pens, all the voter guides we received in the mail, red chili pepper flakes for Christina as well as her signature huge bottle of Tabasco sauce, and our laptops to research and dive into the issues. Some years, these dates could last well into the wee hours of the morning because we were both committed to filling out ballots together, and 99.99% of the time, we eventually would come to a consensus on an issue and vote in agreement. The only 0.01% disagreement we ever had where we voted in opposition to one another was over the legalization of marijuana in Colorado.
Christina was a researcher at heart long before earning a Ph.D. in 2014. Christina would dig and dig and dig into the issues and candidates, and we affectionately called it her "Dog with a Bone" mentality. We found common ground in each of our "Dog with a Bone" mentalities in different ways. I always read through the legal description of the initiatives and ballot measures because, for some reason, this has always really made sense to me. Christina, on the other hand, always chose to comb through all the pro and con endorsements for each initiative, choosing to follow the money trail of who is sponsoring different measures and initiatives. Together, we would have stimulating conversations about everything on the ballot for that respective year. If I were advising a young couple getting married for the first time, I would tell them to find a soul mate willing to participate with them in every aspect of life. Christina and I always turned voting and civic responsibility into an enjoyable activity we did together, which was one way we connected. I share this post today, hoping everyone will participate in their civic duty by returning your mail-in ballots or casting your votes in person by Tuesday, November 7.
Filling out my mail-in ballot this year was another duty on the endless list of the widower's year of firsts. For anyone who has never had to participate in a year of firsts like this, unfortunately, I can tell you it is as terrible as you can imagine. Everywhere you turn, there are painful reminders of your life together as a couple and what you used to do as a cohesive unit. In complete transparency, filling out my ballot this year took me a long time to research the initiatives and decide how to cast my votes. The perpetual question in my thoughts was, "What would Christina think about this?" I never thought I would send in a tear-stained ballot to complete my civic responsibility. To the moon and back, I love you, and I miss our conversations as we fulfilled our duties as citizens of the United States. Read less

Meg Schmitt

We were there, too! We'd just moved to Colorado in August 2008. An incredible experience. We were there, too! We'd just moved to Colorado in August 2008. An incredible experience. We were there, too! We'd just moved to Colorado in... Read more

Katy Ford

Beautiful story. Beautiful story. Beautiful story.

Scott Burke

2010, Santa Fe, NM, USA

Run, Chili peppers, Run!

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Scott Burke

This was originally posted to my Facebook account on October 31st, 2023.                                     
Scary Spice
Forty-three weeks ago today since Christina transitioned, and I find it so coincidental that as I count out the weeks, they add up to the same age Christina was when she passed. All I have to say is, "Fuck Tuesdays this year! Fuck them all!" Historically, Tuesday is named after Tyr's day, the Norse god of war, and is associated with the planet Mars. Since Christina passed, my heart, mind, and soul have been in a constant state of upheaval that only war can bring. Some of the most complex parts of grief and loss that few talk about don't have anything to do with the death of your loved one. Instead, they have everything to do with the thousands of in-between moments that no one ever witnessed but us. These in-between moments, combined with an endless list of hopes and dreams for an impossible and incomplete future, are devastating reminders of the loss that resides within me now. Tuesday has become a weekly anniversary of pain and sorrow where there are things in life scarier than zombies, vampires, and werewolves. The darkness of the abyss steels every breath and, at times, suffocates all desire and will to continue. These are the moments that should scare everyone, and these are the moments I now reside in.

Halloween conjures vivid memories of Christina not because of the day itself but because of Christina's insatiable love of spicy food, love for the stark and sudden change in the season here in Colorado, and love for scary movies and TV shows she enjoyed watching this time of year. The truth is that Christina was never one to go to the extra effort of dressing up for Halloween. I can only recall about half a dozen times throughout our twenty-four-year relationship when we embraced Halloween through costume. Instead, we always stayed home and observed the change in season together. One could characterize us as homebodies who loved being with each other.

In recent years, a typical Halloween for us involved getting carryout food from a local Indian or Thai restaurant. My favorite part of ordering Indian or Thai was telling the server that Christina always wanted her dishes Thai or Indian hot x 2, respectively. The x2 designation was a code that both restaurants established when the "Big Dog" was in the house, meaning someone who could handle the heat, and Christina played this role well. Regardless of whether we were dining in at these establishments or getting takeout, the server would inevitably give Christina a second look and ask, "Are you sure?" Christina would always smile, bat her enormously beautiful eyes, and giggle while telling them she could "handle the heat." On many occasions, while dining in, the wait staff and owners would swing by the table and tell Christina she did an excellent job after finishing her dish. I used to tease Christina by telling her that all chili peppers ran from her like she was Godzilla. I can still hear her laugh tonight as I write this memory.

Everyone who has lived in Colorado for any length of time knows that our weather here typically turns from fall to winter, somewhere around Halloween. Sure, we occasionally have storms that come much earlier or even later, but typically, it is right around this time of year that you can expect the first snow and freezing temperatures along the front range. Christina loved the first snowstorm of the season. She loved to cuddle up in the sanctuary and binge-watch something together. While I tended to gravitate toward drama, comedies, action, or G-rated classics, Christina always loved watching scary movies and TV series, especially during this time of year.

Christina had her favorite horror movies like Friday the 13th, Halloween, Scream, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. She also loved watching other shows like The Walking Dead and American Horror Story. While I enjoyed watching The Walking Dead with Christina until they killed our favorite character, Glenn, off the show, I couldn't watch all of these other movies or TV series with Christina.

Sometimes, while we would surf through different programs looking for something we could agree on, we often landed on programs like Forensic Files, The First 48 Hours, Ted Bundy, Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story, and even Dateline where we would make fun of how the host, Keith Morrison interviewed people with his dramatic voice by saying his trademark, "Oh? And then what happened?" We used to laugh so much at Keith and how he interviewed people while we would both impersonate him. As we would binge-watch these shows together, Christina always pointed out how ironic it was that I could watch all of the shows about terrible things that people did to each other for real but couldn't watch all of the fictional scary movie stuff, except for The Walking Dead. She used to get such a kick out of this.

As the season changed this past Saturday from fall to winter under the Hunter's Full Moon, I recognize I am lonely and fearful for the future. This loneliness is not the kind of loneliness capable of being filled by friends or family. This kind of loneliness stems from a wound Christina can only heal. To the moon and back, I love you and miss you.

This was originally posted to my Facebook account on October 31st, 2023.
... Read moreScary Spice
Forty-three weeks ago today since Christina transitioned, and I find it so coincidental that as I count out the weeks, they add up to the same age Christina was when she passed. All I have to say is, "Fuck Tuesdays this year! Fuck them all!" Historically, Tuesday is named after Tyr's day, the Norse god of war, and is associated with the planet Mars. Since Christina passed, my heart, mind, and soul have been in a constant state of upheaval that only war can bring. Some of the most complex parts of grief and loss that few talk about don't have anything to do with the death of your loved one. Instead, they have everything to do with the thousands of in-between moments that no one ever witnessed but us. These in-between moments, combined with an endless list of hopes and dreams for an impossible and incomplete future, are devastating reminders of the loss that resides within me now. Tuesday has become a weekly anniversary of pain and sorrow where there are things in life scarier than zombies, vampires, and werewolves. The darkness of the abyss steels every breath and, at times, suffocates all desire and will to continue. These are the moments that should scare everyone, and these are the moments I now reside in.

Halloween conjures vivid memories of Christina not because of the day itself but because of Christina's insatiable love of spicy food, love for the stark and sudden change in the season here in Colorado, and love for scary movies and TV shows she enjoyed watching this time of year. The truth is that Christina was never one to go to the extra effort of dressing up for Halloween. I can only recall about half a dozen times throughout our twenty-four-year relationship when we embraced Halloween through costume. Instead, we always stayed home and observed the change in season together. One could characterize us as homebodies who loved being with each other.

In recent years, a typical Halloween for us involved getting carryout food from a local Indian or Thai restaurant. My favorite part of ordering Indian or Thai was telling the server that Christina always wanted her dishes Thai or Indian hot x 2, respectively. The x2 designation was a code that both restaurants established when the "Big Dog" was in the house, meaning someone who could handle the heat, and Christina played this role well. Regardless of whether we were dining in at these establishments or getting takeout, the server would inevitably give Christina a second look and ask, "Are you sure?" Christina would always smile, bat her enormously beautiful eyes, and giggle while telling them she could "handle the heat." On many occasions, while dining in, the wait staff and owners would swing by the table and tell Christina she did an excellent job after finishing her dish. I used to tease Christina by telling her that all chili peppers ran from her like she was Godzilla. I can still hear her laugh tonight as I write this memory.

Everyone who has lived in Colorado for any length of time knows that our weather here typically turns from fall to winter, somewhere around Halloween. Sure, we occasionally have storms that come much earlier or even later, but typically, it is right around this time of year that you can expect the first snow and freezing temperatures along the front range. Christina loved the first snowstorm of the season. She loved to cuddle up in the sanctuary and binge-watch something together. While I tended to gravitate toward drama, comedies, action, or G-rated classics, Christina always loved watching scary movies and TV series, especially during this time of year.

Christina had her favorite horror movies like Friday the 13th, Halloween, Scream, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. She also loved watching other shows like The Walking Dead and American Horror Story. While I enjoyed watching The Walking Dead with Christina until they killed our favorite character, Glenn, off the show, I couldn't watch all of these other movies or TV series with Christina.

Sometimes, while we would surf through different programs looking for something we could agree on, we often landed on programs like Forensic Files, The First 48 Hours, Ted Bundy, Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story, and even Dateline where we would make fun of how the host, Keith Morrison interviewed people with his dramatic voice by saying his trademark, "Oh? And then what happened?" We used to laugh so much at Keith and how he interviewed people while we would both impersonate him. As we would binge-watch these shows together, Christina always pointed out how ironic it was that I could watch all of the shows about terrible things that people did to each other for real but couldn't watch all of the fictional scary movie stuff, except for The Walking Dead. She used to get such a kick out of this.

As the season changed this past Saturday from fall to winter under the Hunter's Full Moon, I recognize I am lonely and fearful for the future. This loneliness is not the kind of loneliness capable of being filled by friends or family. This kind of loneliness stems from a wound Christina can only heal. To the moon and back, I love you and miss you. Read less This was originally posted to my Facebook account on October 31st, 2023.
Scary Spice
Forty-three... Read more weeks ago today since Christina transitioned, and I find it so coincidental that as I count out the weeks, they add up to the same age Christina was when she passed. All I have to say is, "Fuck Tuesdays this year! Fuck them all!" Historically, Tuesday is named after Tyr's day, the Norse god of war, and is associated with the planet Mars. Since Christina passed, my heart, mind, and soul have been in a constant state of upheaval that only war can bring. Some of the most complex parts of grief and loss that few talk about don't have anything to do with the death of your loved one. Instead, they have everything to do with the thousands of in-between moments that no one ever witnessed but us. These in-between moments, combined with an endless list of hopes and dreams for an impossible and incomplete future, are devastating reminders of the loss that resides within me now. Tuesday has become a weekly anniversary of pain and sorrow where there are things in life scarier than zombies, vampires, and werewolves. The darkness of the abyss steels every breath and, at times, suffocates all desire and will to continue. These are the moments that should scare everyone, and these are the moments I now reside in.

Halloween conjures vivid memories of Christina not because of the day itself but because of Christina's insatiable love of spicy food, love for the stark and sudden change in the season here in Colorado, and love for scary movies and TV shows she enjoyed watching this time of year. The truth is that Christina was never one to go to the extra effort of dressing up for Halloween. I can only recall about half a dozen times throughout our twenty-four-year relationship when we embraced Halloween through costume. Instead, we always stayed home and observed the change in season together. One could characterize us as homebodies who loved being with each other.

In recent years, a typical Halloween for us involved getting carryout food from a local Indian or Thai restaurant. My favorite part of ordering Indian or Thai was telling the server that Christina always wanted her dishes Thai or Indian hot x 2, respectively. The x2 designation was a code that both restaurants established when the "Big Dog" was in the house, meaning someone who could handle the heat, and Christina played this role well. Regardless of whether we were dining in at these establishments or getting takeout, the server would inevitably give Christina a second look and ask, "Are you sure?" Christina would always smile, bat her enormously beautiful eyes, and giggle while telling them she could "handle the heat." On many occasions, while dining in, the wait staff and owners would swing by the table and tell Christina she did an excellent job after finishing her dish. I used to tease Christina by telling her that all chili peppers ran from her like she was Godzilla. I can still hear her laugh tonight as I write this memory.

Everyone who has lived in Colorado for any length of time knows that our weather here typically turns from fall to winter, somewhere around Halloween. Sure, we occasionally have storms that come much earlier or even later, but typically, it is right around this time of year that you can expect the first snow and freezing temperatures along the front range. Christina loved the first snowstorm of the season. She loved to cuddle up in the sanctuary and binge-watch something together. While I tended to gravitate toward drama, comedies, action, or G-rated classics, Christina always loved watching scary movies and TV series, especially during this time of year.

Christina had her favorite horror movies like Friday the 13th, Halloween, Scream, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. She also loved watching other shows like The Walking Dead and American Horror Story. While I enjoyed watching The Walking Dead with Christina until they killed our favorite character, Glenn, off the show, I couldn't watch all of these other movies or TV series with Christina.

Sometimes, while we would surf through different programs looking for something we could agree on, we often landed on programs like Forensic Files, The First 48 Hours, Ted Bundy, Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story, and even Dateline where we would make fun of how the host, Keith Morrison interviewed people with his dramatic voice by saying his trademark, "Oh? And then what happened?" We used to laugh so much at Keith and how he interviewed people while we would both impersonate him. As we would binge-watch these shows together, Christina always pointed out how ironic it was that I could watch all of the shows about terrible things that people did to each other for real but couldn't watch all of the fictional scary movie stuff, except for The Walking Dead. She used to get such a kick out of this.

As the season changed this past Saturday from fall to winter under the Hunter's Full Moon, I recognize I am lonely and fearful for the future. This loneliness is not the kind of loneliness capable of being filled by friends or family. This kind of loneliness stems from a wound Christina can only heal. To the moon and back, I love you and miss you. Read less This was originally posted to my Facebook account on... Read more October 31st, 2023.
Scary Spice
Forty-three weeks ago today since Christina transitioned, and I find it so coincidental that as I count out the weeks, they add up to the same age Christina was when she passed. All I have to say is, "Fuck Tuesdays this year! Fuck them all!" Historically, Tuesday is named after Tyr's day, the Norse god of war, and is associated with the planet Mars. Since Christina passed, my heart, mind, and soul have been in a constant state of upheaval that only war can bring. Some of the most complex parts of grief and loss that few talk about don't have anything to do with the death of your loved one. Instead, they have everything to do with the thousands of in-between moments that no one ever witnessed but us. These in-between moments, combined with an endless list of hopes and dreams for an impossible and incomplete future, are devastating reminders of the loss that resides within me now. Tuesday has become a weekly anniversary of pain and sorrow where there are things in life scarier than zombies, vampires, and werewolves. The darkness of the abyss steels every breath and, at times, suffocates all desire and will to continue. These are the moments that should scare everyone, and these are the moments I now reside in.

Halloween conjures vivid memories of Christina not because of the day itself but because of Christina's insatiable love of spicy food, love for the stark and sudden change in the season here in Colorado, and love for scary movies and TV shows she enjoyed watching this time of year. The truth is that Christina was never one to go to the extra effort of dressing up for Halloween. I can only recall about half a dozen times throughout our twenty-four-year relationship when we embraced Halloween through costume. Instead, we always stayed home and observed the change in season together. One could characterize us as homebodies who loved being with each other.

In recent years, a typical Halloween for us involved getting carryout food from a local Indian or Thai restaurant. My favorite part of ordering Indian or Thai was telling the server that Christina always wanted her dishes Thai or Indian hot x 2, respectively. The x2 designation was a code that both restaurants established when the "Big Dog" was in the house, meaning someone who could handle the heat, and Christina played this role well. Regardless of whether we were dining in at these establishments or getting takeout, the server would inevitably give Christina a second look and ask, "Are you sure?" Christina would always smile, bat her enormously beautiful eyes, and giggle while telling them she could "handle the heat." On many occasions, while dining in, the wait staff and owners would swing by the table and tell Christina she did an excellent job after finishing her dish. I used to tease Christina by telling her that all chili peppers ran from her like she was Godzilla. I can still hear her laugh tonight as I write this memory.

Everyone who has lived in Colorado for any length of time knows that our weather here typically turns from fall to winter, somewhere around Halloween. Sure, we occasionally have storms that come much earlier or even later, but typically, it is right around this time of year that you can expect the first snow and freezing temperatures along the front range. Christina loved the first snowstorm of the season. She loved to cuddle up in the sanctuary and binge-watch something together. While I tended to gravitate toward drama, comedies, action, or G-rated classics, Christina always loved watching scary movies and TV series, especially during this time of year.

Christina had her favorite horror movies like Friday the 13th, Halloween, Scream, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. She also loved watching other shows like The Walking Dead and American Horror Story. While I enjoyed watching The Walking Dead with Christina until they killed our favorite character, Glenn, off the show, I couldn't watch all of these other movies or TV series with Christina.

Sometimes, while we would surf through different programs looking for something we could agree on, we often landed on programs like Forensic Files, The First 48 Hours, Ted Bundy, Dahmer – Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story, and even Dateline where we would make fun of how the host, Keith Morrison interviewed people with his dramatic voice by saying his trademark, "Oh? And then what happened?" We used to laugh so much at Keith and how he interviewed people while we would both impersonate him. As we would binge-watch these shows together, Christina always pointed out how ironic it was that I could watch all of the shows about terrible things that people did to each other for real but couldn't watch all of the fictional scary movie stuff, except for The Walking Dead. She used to get such a kick out of this.

As the season changed this past Saturday from fall to winter under the Hunter's Full Moon, I recognize I am lonely and fearful for the future. This loneliness is not the kind of loneliness capable of being filled by friends or family. This kind of loneliness stems from a wound Christina can only heal. To the moon and back, I love you and miss you. Read less

Scott Burke

2004, Denver Botanic Gardens, York Street, Denver, CO, USA

Christina with her best friend Vanessa. Vanessa was her Maid of Honor.

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Glenn DeGuzman

Heather Bell DeLeyos

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Meg Schmitt

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Scott Burke

Maria Vanessa Garay Lapena Deguzman
Since Christina transitioned on Tuesday, January 3, 2023, the most challenging things for me to write about have been the people who positively impacted Christina's life because my love and admiration for each of them is loyal, fierce, and limitless. I suppose it is because so many of them have come to my aid, shown me endless compassion, and have held me close while I have cried an infinite tsunami of grief. I have watched members of Christina's inner circle break down and grieve with me over the loss of Christina. There is something so powerful about allowing ourselves to come undone at the seams in front of each other. In those moments of anguish, we truly understand and recognize each other's vulnerability, humanity, and love that binds every one of us. 
One of the few people Christina expressed her vulnerability, or as she always called it, "Ugly Cried," was Vanessa. Christina and Vanessa were instant friends who shared an unbreakable, soulful bond that quickly morphed from friendship to family in 1999. Some call these kindred spirits, while others call them soul sisters. Whatever we define it as Christina and Vanessa always recognized their connection as a cosmic contract written in the stars. As Christina and I built our lives together, there have been a handful of friends who, over time, have become more than friends. They are the family we selected, and we have always called them the "Framily." 
Tonight, as I fly home from the San Francisco Bay Area, the area Christina and I always referred to as our second home thanks to Vanessa and her loving husband Glenn, I am devastated and heartbroken to share that Vanessa Deguzman passed away on Tuesday, October 3, 2023. Without going into specifics surrounding Vanessa's passing because that story is not mine to share, what I would like to let everyone know is that Glenn, Vanessa's husband; Alex, Vanessa's son; Alli, Vanessa's daughter, and Mama Astrid, Vanessa's mother did everything right to honor every bit of the beauty and magic Vanessa brought to this world in her final hours. For the few of us present in those last moments, I believe I speak for all of us when I say it was a divine privilege to bear witness to the love shared between these family members. Thank you all for allowing me to be with my best friend and "family" member, Vanessa, as she transitioned to join Christina on the other side of the veil. The world has lost another beautiful soul who brought so much care, inclusion, and love to all.
While I am heartbroken and devastated over the loss of both Christina and Vanessa, there are things I have experienced over the past ten months that I cannot explain. Before Christina's death, she shared all sorts of, as she called them, "WooWoo AF synchronicities." These WooWoo AF experiences include chance encounters with sequences of three identical numbers many refer to as angel numbers, coins, feathers, dragonflies, hummingbirds, and butterflies. The important part is having awareness to recognize these items when you see them. Christina always found meaning in these experiences and felt like her spirit guides always watched over her. Christina often said, "We are never truly alone as long as we embrace, recognize, and connect with spirit." Everyone closest to me knows that I now write more than speak, which was how Christina chose to engage with the world. Some may need help understanding; however, Christina taught me ways to connect with her between dimensions, and the rest of this story proves that we are never alone as long as we know what to look for and how to connect.
While there were nine of us present in those final moments surrounding Vanessa, I know that Christina was present, fulfilling her cosmic soul contract. It was as if she was somehow comforting me and letting me know that she was helping Vanessa in her transition beyond. First, as I rushed through DIA, the San Jose airport, and the medical center, I kept walking over all sorts of feathers. I boarded the plane and sat in the Southwest Airlines first class section (Exit Row). The airline attendant greeted me. She and I struck up a casual conversation, and she asked me, "Why are you going to San Jose?" I informed her that one of my best friends was in the hospital and I was trying to get there as soon as possible. Somehow, this conversation progressed, and I mentioned the passing of Christina. The attendant said, "I see your pain and recognize your strength as you grieve your late wife while rushing to be by your friend's side." Before this attendant resumed her job, she touched my shoulder, and a tear ran down my face. I asked her name, and she replied, "Christina." I was speechless because not only was her name Christina, but her statement about my "strength" was one of the last conversations I had with Christina. I looked out the window and cried to the Bay under the weight of the loss of Christina as well as the anticipation of the loss of Vanessa.
When I disembarked the plane in San Jose and entered the terminal, a photograph of the Golden Gate Bridge was the first thing I saw. Two weeks earlier, a small group of us spread some of Christina's ashes on Hawk Hill at Meditation Point overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, the San Francisco Bay, and the City of San Francisco to the east and the majestic Pacific to the west. This location was the right setting for some of Christina's ashes because she will forever be able to watch over one of her favorite places as Karl the Fog regularly blankets the city. What struck me about this photo hanging in the terminal was that it greeted me right as I exited the plane. Out of the thousands of photos I've seen displaying the Golden Gate Bridge over the years, this one was unique because it showed not only the Golden Gate Bridge but also Hawk Hill and Meditation Point. I felt Christina with me in that instant, protecting my heart as I journeyed to be by Vanessa's side in her final moments. 
I glanced down as I stood in the hospital room steeped in ever-expanding grief, witnessing the anguish Glenn and their family were experiencing that I am all too familiar with. Under Vanessa's hospital bed was a large green sticker displaying August 24, Christina's birthday. I instantly felt that even though there were nine of us in the room, there were ten of us because Christina's spirit was present with all of us. Vanessa passed shortly after noticing this sticker.
The following morning, I bought Glenn and me two cups of coffee from the hospital cafeteria. I paid cash and received the change back. At the time, I was anxious to return to my best friend in his time of need, so I threw the coins in my pocket and headed back to him. I handed him his coffee, and we watched the sunrise outside the hospital room. Glenn wanted to be alone, so I left and went to the waiting room. While there, I reached into my pocket and felt the coins. I pulled the cash from my pocket, and as I scanned the coins, I realized there were also three pennies amongst the nickels, dimes, and quarters. I looked at them closer and realized they were all minted in the same year. Each of these pennies was stamped in 1979 when Christina was born. As tears streamed down my face, I couldn't help but think this was a message from Christina saying that she and Vanessa were together. 
After recomposing myself and wiping the tears from my eyes, I returned the change to my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. My cell phone had refreshed the daily photo feed. Since Christina's passing, there have been three days where the photo feed didn't include at least one photo of Christina. Those days are brutal and are reminders of the loss, and that time stands still for none of us. Two unique things about the feed on October 4 was that it included a photo of Vanessa from 2010 when she and Christina ran the San Francisco Marathon together. I found this curious because this is the first time in ten months that a photo of Vanessa has appeared in my feed. There was also a photo of Christina and me from a trip to Yellowstone National Park. The thing that no one else knows about this photo is that the clothes Christina is wearing in this photo are the same clothes she was wearing when she passed away in January. The hat, sunglasses, and shirt she has on are the clothes I received back from the mortuary. While both photos combine pleasant memories, they also remind me of the tremendous loss of Christina and now Vanessa. These photos comforted me on the 4th by letting me know Christina and Vanessa were together. 
Vanessa, thank you for being one of my absolute best friends. Please know I will do everything possible to help and watch over your family. I will miss our travels, conversations about our Chinese zodiac signs of being born in the year of the fire dragon, and our love and sharing of delicious foods over the great discussions we always had together. To the moon and back, I love and miss you both.

Maria Vanessa Garay Lapena Deguzman
Since Christina transitioned on Tuesday, January 3, 2023, the most challenging... Read more things for me to write about have been the people who positively impacted Christina's life because my love and admiration for each of them is loyal, fierce, and limitless. I suppose it is because so many of them have come to my aid, shown me endless compassion, and have held me close while I have cried an infinite tsunami of grief. I have watched members of Christina's inner circle break down and grieve with me over the loss of Christina. There is something so powerful about allowing ourselves to come undone at the seams in front of each other. In those moments of anguish, we truly understand and recognize each other's vulnerability, humanity, and love that binds every one of us.
One of the few people Christina expressed her vulnerability, or as she always called it, "Ugly Cried," was Vanessa. Christina and Vanessa were instant friends who shared an unbreakable, soulful bond that quickly morphed from friendship to family in 1999. Some call these kindred spirits, while others call them soul sisters. Whatever we define it as Christina and Vanessa always recognized their connection as a cosmic contract written in the stars. As Christina and I built our lives together, there have been a handful of friends who, over time, have become more than friends. They are the family we selected, and we have always called them the "Framily."
Tonight, as I fly home from the San Francisco Bay Area, the area Christina and I always referred to as our second home thanks to Vanessa and her loving husband Glenn, I am devastated and heartbroken to share that Vanessa Deguzman passed away on Tuesday, October 3, 2023. Without going into specifics surrounding Vanessa's passing because that story is not mine to share, what I would like to let everyone know is that Glenn, Vanessa's husband; Alex, Vanessa's son; Alli, Vanessa's daughter, and Mama Astrid, Vanessa's mother did everything right to honor every bit of the beauty and magic Vanessa brought to this world in her final hours. For the few of us present in those last moments, I believe I speak for all of us when I say it was a divine privilege to bear witness to the love shared between these family members. Thank you all for allowing me to be with my best friend and "family" member, Vanessa, as she transitioned to join Christina on the other side of the veil. The world has lost another beautiful soul who brought so much care, inclusion, and love to all.
While I am heartbroken and devastated over the loss of both Christina and Vanessa, there are things I have experienced over the past ten months that I cannot explain. Before Christina's death, she shared all sorts of, as she called them, "WooWoo AF synchronicities." These WooWoo AF experiences include chance encounters with sequences of three identical numbers many refer to as angel numbers, coins, feathers, dragonflies, hummingbirds, and butterflies. The important part is having awareness to recognize these items when you see them. Christina always found meaning in these experiences and felt like her spirit guides always watched over her. Christina often said, "We are never truly alone as long as we embrace, recognize, and connect with spirit." Everyone closest to me knows that I now write more than speak, which was how Christina chose to engage with the world. Some may need help understanding; however, Christina taught me ways to connect with her between dimensions, and the rest of this story proves that we are never alone as long as we know what to look for and how to connect.
While there were nine of us present in those final moments surrounding Vanessa, I know that Christina was present, fulfilling her cosmic soul contract. It was as if she was somehow comforting me and letting me know that she was helping Vanessa in her transition beyond. First, as I rushed through DIA, the San Jose airport, and the medical center, I kept walking over all sorts of feathers. I boarded the plane and sat in the Southwest Airlines first class section (Exit Row). The airline attendant greeted me. She and I struck up a casual conversation, and she asked me, "Why are you going to San Jose?" I informed her that one of my best friends was in the hospital and I was trying to get there as soon as possible. Somehow, this conversation progressed, and I mentioned the passing of Christina. The attendant said, "I see your pain and recognize your strength as you grieve your late wife while rushing to be by your friend's side." Before this attendant resumed her job, she touched my shoulder, and a tear ran down my face. I asked her name, and she replied, "Christina." I was speechless because not only was her name Christina, but her statement about my "strength" was one of the last conversations I had with Christina. I looked out the window and cried to the Bay under the weight of the loss of Christina as well as the anticipation of the loss of Vanessa.
When I disembarked the plane in San Jose and entered the terminal, a photograph of the Golden Gate Bridge was the first thing I saw. Two weeks earlier, a small group of us spread some of Christina's ashes on Hawk Hill at Meditation Point overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, the San Francisco Bay, and the City of San Francisco to the east and the majestic Pacific to the west. This location was the right setting for some of Christina's ashes because she will forever be able to watch over one of her favorite places as Karl the Fog regularly blankets the city. What struck me about this photo hanging in the terminal was that it greeted me right as I exited the plane. Out of the thousands of photos I've seen displaying the Golden Gate Bridge over the years, this one was unique because it showed not only the Golden Gate Bridge but also Hawk Hill and Meditation Point. I felt Christina with me in that instant, protecting my heart as I journeyed to be by Vanessa's side in her final moments.
I glanced down as I stood in the hospital room steeped in ever-expanding grief, witnessing the anguish Glenn and their family were experiencing that I am all too familiar with. Under Vanessa's hospital bed was a large green sticker displaying August 24, Christina's birthday. I instantly felt that even though there were nine of us in the room, there were ten of us because Christina's spirit was present with all of us. Vanessa passed shortly after noticing this sticker.
The following morning, I bought Glenn and me two cups of coffee from the hospital cafeteria. I paid cash and received the change back. At the time, I was anxious to return to my best friend in his time of need, so I threw the coins in my pocket and headed back to him. I handed him his coffee, and we watched the sunrise outside the hospital room. Glenn wanted to be alone, so I left and went to the waiting room. While there, I reached into my pocket and felt the coins. I pulled the cash from my pocket, and as I scanned the coins, I realized there were also three pennies amongst the nickels, dimes, and quarters. I looked at them closer and realized they were all minted in the same year. Each of these pennies was stamped in 1979 when Christina was born. As tears streamed down my face, I couldn't help but think this was a message from Christina saying that she and Vanessa were together.
After recomposing myself and wiping the tears from my eyes, I returned the change to my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. My cell phone had refreshed the daily photo feed. Since Christina's passing, there have been three days where the photo feed didn't include at least one photo of Christina. Those days are brutal and are reminders of the loss, and that time stands still for none of us. Two unique things about the feed on October 4 was that it included a photo of Vanessa from 2010 when she and Christina ran the San Francisco Marathon together. I found this curious because this is the first time in ten months that a photo of Vanessa has appeared in my feed. There was also a photo of Christina and me from a trip to Yellowstone National Park. The thing that no one else knows about this photo is that the clothes Christina is wearing in this photo are the same clothes she was wearing when she passed away in January. The hat, sunglasses, and shirt she has on are the clothes I received back from the mortuary. While both photos combine pleasant memories, they also remind me of the tremendous loss of Christina and now Vanessa. These photos comforted me on the 4th by letting me know Christina and Vanessa were together.
Vanessa, thank you for being one of my absolute best friends. Please know I will do everything possible to help and watch over your family. I will miss our travels, conversations about our Chinese zodiac signs of being born in the year of the fire dragon, and our love and sharing of delicious foods over the great discussions we always had together. To the moon and back, I love and miss you both. Read less Maria Vanessa Garay Lapena Deguzman
Since Christina transitioned on Tuesday, January 3, 2023, the most challenging things for... Read more me to write about have been the people who positively impacted Christina's life because my love and admiration for each of them is loyal, fierce, and limitless. I suppose it is because so many of them have come to my aid, shown me endless compassion, and have held me close while I have cried an infinite tsunami of grief. I have watched members of Christina's inner circle break down and grieve with me over the loss of Christina. There is something so powerful about allowing ourselves to come undone at the seams in front of each other. In those moments of anguish, we truly understand and recognize each other's vulnerability, humanity, and love that binds every one of us.
One of the few people Christina expressed her vulnerability, or as she always called it, "Ugly Cried," was Vanessa. Christina and Vanessa were instant friends who shared an unbreakable, soulful bond that quickly morphed from friendship to family in 1999. Some call these kindred spirits, while others call them soul sisters. Whatever we define it as Christina and Vanessa always recognized their connection as a cosmic contract written in the stars. As Christina and I built our lives together, there have been a handful of friends who, over time, have become more than friends. They are the family we selected, and we have always called them the "Framily."
Tonight, as I fly home from the San Francisco Bay Area, the area Christina and I always referred to as our second home thanks to Vanessa and her loving husband Glenn, I am devastated and heartbroken to share that Vanessa Deguzman passed away on Tuesday, October 3, 2023. Without going into specifics surrounding Vanessa's passing because that story is not mine to share, what I would like to let everyone know is that Glenn, Vanessa's husband; Alex, Vanessa's son; Alli, Vanessa's daughter, and Mama Astrid, Vanessa's mother did everything right to honor every bit of the beauty and magic Vanessa brought to this world in her final hours. For the few of us present in those last moments, I believe I speak for all of us when I say it was a divine privilege to bear witness to the love shared between these family members. Thank you all for allowing me to be with my best friend and "family" member, Vanessa, as she transitioned to join Christina on the other side of the veil. The world has lost another beautiful soul who brought so much care, inclusion, and love to all.
While I am heartbroken and devastated over the loss of both Christina and Vanessa, there are things I have experienced over the past ten months that I cannot explain. Before Christina's death, she shared all sorts of, as she called them, "WooWoo AF synchronicities." These WooWoo AF experiences include chance encounters with sequences of three identical numbers many refer to as angel numbers, coins, feathers, dragonflies, hummingbirds, and butterflies. The important part is having awareness to recognize these items when you see them. Christina always found meaning in these experiences and felt like her spirit guides always watched over her. Christina often said, "We are never truly alone as long as we embrace, recognize, and connect with spirit." Everyone closest to me knows that I now write more than speak, which was how Christina chose to engage with the world. Some may need help understanding; however, Christina taught me ways to connect with her between dimensions, and the rest of this story proves that we are never alone as long as we know what to look for and how to connect.
While there were nine of us present in those final moments surrounding Vanessa, I know that Christina was present, fulfilling her cosmic soul contract. It was as if she was somehow comforting me and letting me know that she was helping Vanessa in her transition beyond. First, as I rushed through DIA, the San Jose airport, and the medical center, I kept walking over all sorts of feathers. I boarded the plane and sat in the Southwest Airlines first class section (Exit Row). The airline attendant greeted me. She and I struck up a casual conversation, and she asked me, "Why are you going to San Jose?" I informed her that one of my best friends was in the hospital and I was trying to get there as soon as possible. Somehow, this conversation progressed, and I mentioned the passing of Christina. The attendant said, "I see your pain and recognize your strength as you grieve your late wife while rushing to be by your friend's side." Before this attendant resumed her job, she touched my shoulder, and a tear ran down my face. I asked her name, and she replied, "Christina." I was speechless because not only was her name Christina, but her statement about my "strength" was one of the last conversations I had with Christina. I looked out the window and cried to the Bay under the weight of the loss of Christina as well as the anticipation of the loss of Vanessa.
When I disembarked the plane in San Jose and entered the terminal, a photograph of the Golden Gate Bridge was the first thing I saw. Two weeks earlier, a small group of us spread some of Christina's ashes on Hawk Hill at Meditation Point overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, the San Francisco Bay, and the City of San Francisco to the east and the majestic Pacific to the west. This location was the right setting for some of Christina's ashes because she will forever be able to watch over one of her favorite places as Karl the Fog regularly blankets the city. What struck me about this photo hanging in the terminal was that it greeted me right as I exited the plane. Out of the thousands of photos I've seen displaying the Golden Gate Bridge over the years, this one was unique because it showed not only the Golden Gate Bridge but also Hawk Hill and Meditation Point. I felt Christina with me in that instant, protecting my heart as I journeyed to be by Vanessa's side in her final moments.
I glanced down as I stood in the hospital room steeped in ever-expanding grief, witnessing the anguish Glenn and their family were experiencing that I am all too familiar with. Under Vanessa's hospital bed was a large green sticker displaying August 24, Christina's birthday. I instantly felt that even though there were nine of us in the room, there were ten of us because Christina's spirit was present with all of us. Vanessa passed shortly after noticing this sticker.
The following morning, I bought Glenn and me two cups of coffee from the hospital cafeteria. I paid cash and received the change back. At the time, I was anxious to return to my best friend in his time of need, so I threw the coins in my pocket and headed back to him. I handed him his coffee, and we watched the sunrise outside the hospital room. Glenn wanted to be alone, so I left and went to the waiting room. While there, I reached into my pocket and felt the coins. I pulled the cash from my pocket, and as I scanned the coins, I realized there were also three pennies amongst the nickels, dimes, and quarters. I looked at them closer and realized they were all minted in the same year. Each of these pennies was stamped in 1979 when Christina was born. As tears streamed down my face, I couldn't help but think this was a message from Christina saying that she and Vanessa were together.
After recomposing myself and wiping the tears from my eyes, I returned the change to my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. My cell phone had refreshed the daily photo feed. Since Christina's passing, there have been three days where the photo feed didn't include at least one photo of Christina. Those days are brutal and are reminders of the loss, and that time stands still for none of us. Two unique things about the feed on October 4 was that it included a photo of Vanessa from 2010 when she and Christina ran the San Francisco Marathon together. I found this curious because this is the first time in ten months that a photo of Vanessa has appeared in my feed. There was also a photo of Christina and me from a trip to Yellowstone National Park. The thing that no one else knows about this photo is that the clothes Christina is wearing in this photo are the same clothes she was wearing when she passed away in January. The hat, sunglasses, and shirt she has on are the clothes I received back from the mortuary. While both photos combine pleasant memories, they also remind me of the tremendous loss of Christina and now Vanessa. These photos comforted me on the 4th by letting me know Christina and Vanessa were together.
Vanessa, thank you for being one of my absolute best friends. Please know I will do everything possible to help and watch over your family. I will miss our travels, conversations about our Chinese zodiac signs of being born in the year of the fire dragon, and our love and sharing of delicious foods over the great discussions we always had together. To the moon and back, I love and miss you both. Read less Maria Vanessa Garay Lapena Deguzman
Since Christina... Read more transitioned on Tuesday, January 3, 2023, the most challenging things for me to write about have been the people who positively impacted Christina's life because my love and admiration for each of them is loyal, fierce, and limitless. I suppose it is because so many of them have come to my aid, shown me endless compassion, and have held me close while I have cried an infinite tsunami of grief. I have watched members of Christina's inner circle break down and grieve with me over the loss of Christina. There is something so powerful about allowing ourselves to come undone at the seams in front of each other. In those moments of anguish, we truly understand and recognize each other's vulnerability, humanity, and love that binds every one of us.
One of the few people Christina expressed her vulnerability, or as she always called it, "Ugly Cried," was Vanessa. Christina and Vanessa were instant friends who shared an unbreakable, soulful bond that quickly morphed from friendship to family in 1999. Some call these kindred spirits, while others call them soul sisters. Whatever we define it as Christina and Vanessa always recognized their connection as a cosmic contract written in the stars. As Christina and I built our lives together, there have been a handful of friends who, over time, have become more than friends. They are the family we selected, and we have always called them the "Framily."
Tonight, as I fly home from the San Francisco Bay Area, the area Christina and I always referred to as our second home thanks to Vanessa and her loving husband Glenn, I am devastated and heartbroken to share that Vanessa Deguzman passed away on Tuesday, October 3, 2023. Without going into specifics surrounding Vanessa's passing because that story is not mine to share, what I would like to let everyone know is that Glenn, Vanessa's husband; Alex, Vanessa's son; Alli, Vanessa's daughter, and Mama Astrid, Vanessa's mother did everything right to honor every bit of the beauty and magic Vanessa brought to this world in her final hours. For the few of us present in those last moments, I believe I speak for all of us when I say it was a divine privilege to bear witness to the love shared between these family members. Thank you all for allowing me to be with my best friend and "family" member, Vanessa, as she transitioned to join Christina on the other side of the veil. The world has lost another beautiful soul who brought so much care, inclusion, and love to all.
While I am heartbroken and devastated over the loss of both Christina and Vanessa, there are things I have experienced over the past ten months that I cannot explain. Before Christina's death, she shared all sorts of, as she called them, "WooWoo AF synchronicities." These WooWoo AF experiences include chance encounters with sequences of three identical numbers many refer to as angel numbers, coins, feathers, dragonflies, hummingbirds, and butterflies. The important part is having awareness to recognize these items when you see them. Christina always found meaning in these experiences and felt like her spirit guides always watched over her. Christina often said, "We are never truly alone as long as we embrace, recognize, and connect with spirit." Everyone closest to me knows that I now write more than speak, which was how Christina chose to engage with the world. Some may need help understanding; however, Christina taught me ways to connect with her between dimensions, and the rest of this story proves that we are never alone as long as we know what to look for and how to connect.
While there were nine of us present in those final moments surrounding Vanessa, I know that Christina was present, fulfilling her cosmic soul contract. It was as if she was somehow comforting me and letting me know that she was helping Vanessa in her transition beyond. First, as I rushed through DIA, the San Jose airport, and the medical center, I kept walking over all sorts of feathers. I boarded the plane and sat in the Southwest Airlines first class section (Exit Row). The airline attendant greeted me. She and I struck up a casual conversation, and she asked me, "Why are you going to San Jose?" I informed her that one of my best friends was in the hospital and I was trying to get there as soon as possible. Somehow, this conversation progressed, and I mentioned the passing of Christina. The attendant said, "I see your pain and recognize your strength as you grieve your late wife while rushing to be by your friend's side." Before this attendant resumed her job, she touched my shoulder, and a tear ran down my face. I asked her name, and she replied, "Christina." I was speechless because not only was her name Christina, but her statement about my "strength" was one of the last conversations I had with Christina. I looked out the window and cried to the Bay under the weight of the loss of Christina as well as the anticipation of the loss of Vanessa.
When I disembarked the plane in San Jose and entered the terminal, a photograph of the Golden Gate Bridge was the first thing I saw. Two weeks earlier, a small group of us spread some of Christina's ashes on Hawk Hill at Meditation Point overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge, the San Francisco Bay, and the City of San Francisco to the east and the majestic Pacific to the west. This location was the right setting for some of Christina's ashes because she will forever be able to watch over one of her favorite places as Karl the Fog regularly blankets the city. What struck me about this photo hanging in the terminal was that it greeted me right as I exited the plane. Out of the thousands of photos I've seen displaying the Golden Gate Bridge over the years, this one was unique because it showed not only the Golden Gate Bridge but also Hawk Hill and Meditation Point. I felt Christina with me in that instant, protecting my heart as I journeyed to be by Vanessa's side in her final moments.
I glanced down as I stood in the hospital room steeped in ever-expanding grief, witnessing the anguish Glenn and their family were experiencing that I am all too familiar with. Under Vanessa's hospital bed was a large green sticker displaying August 24, Christina's birthday. I instantly felt that even though there were nine of us in the room, there were ten of us because Christina's spirit was present with all of us. Vanessa passed shortly after noticing this sticker.
The following morning, I bought Glenn and me two cups of coffee from the hospital cafeteria. I paid cash and received the change back. At the time, I was anxious to return to my best friend in his time of need, so I threw the coins in my pocket and headed back to him. I handed him his coffee, and we watched the sunrise outside the hospital room. Glenn wanted to be alone, so I left and went to the waiting room. While there, I reached into my pocket and felt the coins. I pulled the cash from my pocket, and as I scanned the coins, I realized there were also three pennies amongst the nickels, dimes, and quarters. I looked at them closer and realized they were all minted in the same year. Each of these pennies was stamped in 1979 when Christina was born. As tears streamed down my face, I couldn't help but think this was a message from Christina saying that she and Vanessa were together.
After recomposing myself and wiping the tears from my eyes, I returned the change to my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. My cell phone had refreshed the daily photo feed. Since Christina's passing, there have been three days where the photo feed didn't include at least one photo of Christina. Those days are brutal and are reminders of the loss, and that time stands still for none of us. Two unique things about the feed on October 4 was that it included a photo of Vanessa from 2010 when she and Christina ran the San Francisco Marathon together. I found this curious because this is the first time in ten months that a photo of Vanessa has appeared in my feed. There was also a photo of Christina and me from a trip to Yellowstone National Park. The thing that no one else knows about this photo is that the clothes Christina is wearing in this photo are the same clothes she was wearing when she passed away in January. The hat, sunglasses, and shirt she has on are the clothes I received back from the mortuary. While both photos combine pleasant memories, they also remind me of the tremendous loss of Christina and now Vanessa. These photos comforted me on the 4th by letting me know Christina and Vanessa were together.
Vanessa, thank you for being one of my absolute best friends. Please know I will do everything possible to help and watch over your family. I will miss our travels, conversations about our Chinese zodiac signs of being born in the year of the fire dragon, and our love and sharing of delicious foods over the great discussions we always had together. To the moon and back, I love and miss you both. Read less

Mari Strombom

Thank you for sharing all of this Scott. It is clear that Christina is still with you and I'm glad you're... Read more Thank you for sharing all of this Scott. It is clear that Christina is still with you and I'm glad you're tuned into the WooWoo... Read more Thank you for sharing all of this Scott. It is clear... Read more

Katy Ford

Thank you Scott! Thank you Scott! Thank you Scott!

Heather Bell DeLeyos

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Scott Burke

2000, Pike National Forest, Colorado, USA

2000 or maybe 2001 Christina is fishing on the family's private trout pond with Balto hanging out behind her, hoping she catches some fish for dinner. Christina hated when Balto jumped in the water and got wet because he would always come near her and shake all the water out of his coat, getting her soaking wet.

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Scott Burke

When Twin Flames Recognize Each Other

"The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along."
				Jadal ad-Din Rumi, 1207-1273

Navigation of an endless river of grief caused by sudden loss has a profound way of resurfacing events from the past that had all but vanished below the rapids of life ages ago. In life, so often, timing and recognition are everything, and one detail no one else knows is that when Christina and I first met, neither of us recognized the twin flame hidden within each of us. For those who may not be familiar with the difference between a twin flame and a soul mate, a twin flame is one soul split into two separate beings that, when reunited, ignite a profound union that transcends the physical and resonates deeply within the essence of the soul. In contrast, a soul mate is two separate souls that are extraordinarily linked. Christina and I always believed we were lucky to be both twin flames and soul mates. Twin Flames can sometimes meet and not recognize their deep spiritual connection because they still have work to do on themselves through their life's journey. Hence, timing and recognition are so important. As I stumble ahead, I am overwhelmed by memories and emotions of all the little details that made us uniquely Scott and Christina. Until now, no one other than Christina knows this story. 
  
During what would have been Christina's first year at Grinnell College in Iowa, she came to visit Colorado State University (CSU), where I was enjoying my third year on campus. Christina desired to transfer to CSU after her brief stint in Iowa and was on campus checking things out with a close childhood friend with whom we were mutual friends. We briefly met in the hallway of the Lory Student Center outside Sweet Sensations Coffee Shop before coffee shops became the popular thing they are today. We shook hands, and Christina's childhood friend introduced us and informed me that Christina was checking to see if she wanted to transfer to CSU for the following year. Being the enthusiastic RAM I was, I told Christina that CSU was a great place to go to school. I remember it being an inconsequential, chance encounter lasting at most ten minutes. Little did we know at the time that seventeen months later, we would both recognize the twin flame and soul mate connection we had.

Of all the things I miss the most about Christina, the thousands of ordinary magical moments that define us are always on my mind. As I move further through the grieving process, there is nothing in my life that Christina wasn't an integral and necessary part of. This Christina story is about Christina's introduction to a portion of my childhood that makes up a thread within the fabric of my identity and existence.

Nestled deep within the Pike National Forrest in the shadow of the highest peak in Douglas County lies 39 acres of private, family-owned mountain property. Throughout our relationship's early and formative months, I had told Christina hundreds of stories about spending summers at the family cabin and all the adventures I had growing up there. She always listened with such amazement combined with some suspicion and curiosity because her worldly experience was nothing like mine at the time, having grown up worldwide as her family was stationed from one military base to the other. Thinking back now, I loved listening to Christina's stories about living abroad just as much as she loved or maybe tolerated my personal stories.

Christina's first visit to the family acreage was in the winter of 2000, after we had been dating for a little over six months and planned to get married sometime soon. We went to Colorado Springs to visit Christina's mom and my future mother-in-law, Chong Ae. After the visit, as we pulled away from her mom's house to head back to Fort Collins, I asked Christina if she wanted to go the "short way home" or the "long way home." To my surprise, she requested to go the long way home. We drove to the property with our dog Balto in the backseat of my 5.0 Ford Mustang, singing at the top of our lungs to whatever music she played on the Sony Discman plugged into the car's tape deck with a cassette converter. We had a great time roaring through the canyon switchbacks, and just about the time Christina started getting curious about where we were going, I turned off the main road to the dirt road and told her, "We have ten miles of dirt road to go." She laughed, and I continued driving, knowing Christina was tired of being in the car. I pulled over as we approached the top of a hill that overlooks the valley and exited the Mustang. As Balto found many trees to pee on, I stood next to Christina and said, this is the valley of family property I have been telling you about, and I pointed to a cabin off in the distance and said that is the cabin over there. She stood there in amazement and mentioned how quiet and peaceful it was. The winter months in this valley are so silent you can hear nothing but the wind gently blowing through the trees.

We drove down the valley another mile, and I parked in front of the cabin. As I opened the door to the house, it was freezing inside, and Christina said, "Wow! It is colder inside than it is outside." I laughed and told her there was no furnace because the cabin was only a seasonal place. Both of us were tired from driving the "long way," which prompted Christina to ask, "What would it take to warm the place up?" I replied, "Well, I would have to start a fire in the woodstove and the fireplace, and it would take an hour or so to warm the place up." I remember her big brown eyes and smile as she laughed and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? You better get started." As I gathered the necessary fire supplies, Christina rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator, looking for snacks. Although she would not earn the names of the Snack Attack Monster (SAM) or the Snack Gremlin for nearly a decade, they both made cameo appearances that day at the cabin.

As the fires raged, I told Christina we would run out of wood stored inside pretty quickly and would need to split more wood if we stayed for any time. She asked, "How much wood would we need to split if we stayed the night?" I told her, "If we split wood for about an hour, we should have enough." I asked what she wanted to do, inquiring if she wanted to stay the night or pack up and leave, and she said, "Everything I need is right here, so let's go and split wood." We got our boots on and went outside, where there were a bunch of round unsplit logs. I showed her how to split logs, and being the scary movie buff she was, she kept saying that I better be really good or she might turn into Jack Nicholson from Stephen King's The Shining. We stayed the night huddled up in the cabin, feeding the fire, roasting marshmallows for smores, talking about the future, and looking out at the stars through the picture window over the silence of the winter across the valley. It was perfect, and together, we were always so happy. As we both sat there staring at the licks of the flames in the wood stove and the fireplace, Christina defined us as twin flames for the first time.

Over the next two years of our young relationship, as we both completed our undergraduate degrees and began our professional careers, we visited the cabin many times. Unfortunately, in 2002, the house and acreage went up in smoke due to the Hayman Fire, and the entire family was devastated. The Hayman Fire was so intense inside the cabin that the cast iron wood stove melted and was a pool of cooled molten metal. The rocks were covered with black soot, and the pine trees looked like charred toothpicks. The entire valley felt more like landing on the surface of the moon.

After six years away from the valley, I became curious to see how the forest was looking, and beginning again in the summer of 2008, Christina and I went camping up there many times. Christina considered herself a "Boogie Girl," and our camping adventures were limited to no more than about three days of tent camping with the dogs, which was plenty of time. During each camping trip, over the night's campfire, while roasting marshmallows for smores, Christina continually revisited that winter night in 2000 by telling the story about how she watched the flames in the old cabin and recognized the twin flames hidden within each of us and how lucky we were to have found each other so early in life. Now that Christina is no longer here, I feel like I burn about half as bright as when we were together, and I will forever long for the day when our twin flames flicker together again. To the moon and back, I love you.

When Twin Flames Recognize Each Other

"The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you,... Read more not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along."
Jadal ad-Din Rumi, 1207-1273

Navigation of an endless river of grief caused by sudden loss has a profound way of resurfacing events from the past that had all but vanished below the rapids of life ages ago. In life, so often, timing and recognition are everything, and one detail no one else knows is that when Christina and I first met, neither of us recognized the twin flame hidden within each of us. For those who may not be familiar with the difference between a twin flame and a soul mate, a twin flame is one soul split into two separate beings that, when reunited, ignite a profound union that transcends the physical and resonates deeply within the essence of the soul. In contrast, a soul mate is two separate souls that are extraordinarily linked. Christina and I always believed we were lucky to be both twin flames and soul mates. Twin Flames can sometimes meet and not recognize their deep spiritual connection because they still have work to do on themselves through their life's journey. Hence, timing and recognition are so important. As I stumble ahead, I am overwhelmed by memories and emotions of all the little details that made us uniquely Scott and Christina. Until now, no one other than Christina knows this story.

During what would have been Christina's first year at Grinnell College in Iowa, she came to visit Colorado State University (CSU), where I was enjoying my third year on campus. Christina desired to transfer to CSU after her brief stint in Iowa and was on campus checking things out with a close childhood friend with whom we were mutual friends. We briefly met in the hallway of the Lory Student Center outside Sweet Sensations Coffee Shop before coffee shops became the popular thing they are today. We shook hands, and Christina's childhood friend introduced us and informed me that Christina was checking to see if she wanted to transfer to CSU for the following year. Being the enthusiastic RAM I was, I told Christina that CSU was a great place to go to school. I remember it being an inconsequential, chance encounter lasting at most ten minutes. Little did we know at the time that seventeen months later, we would both recognize the twin flame and soul mate connection we had.

Of all the things I miss the most about Christina, the thousands of ordinary magical moments that define us are always on my mind. As I move further through the grieving process, there is nothing in my life that Christina wasn't an integral and necessary part of. This Christina story is about Christina's introduction to a portion of my childhood that makes up a thread within the fabric of my identity and existence.

Nestled deep within the Pike National Forrest in the shadow of the highest peak in Douglas County lies 39 acres of private, family-owned mountain property. Throughout our relationship's early and formative months, I had told Christina hundreds of stories about spending summers at the family cabin and all the adventures I had growing up there. She always listened with such amazement combined with some suspicion and curiosity because her worldly experience was nothing like mine at the time, having grown up worldwide as her family was stationed from one military base to the other. Thinking back now, I loved listening to Christina's stories about living abroad just as much as she loved or maybe tolerated my personal stories.

Christina's first visit to the family acreage was in the winter of 2000, after we had been dating for a little over six months and planned to get married sometime soon. We went to Colorado Springs to visit Christina's mom and my future mother-in-law, Chong Ae. After the visit, as we pulled away from her mom's house to head back to Fort Collins, I asked Christina if she wanted to go the "short way home" or the "long way home." To my surprise, she requested to go the long way home. We drove to the property with our dog Balto in the backseat of my 5.0 Ford Mustang, singing at the top of our lungs to whatever music she played on the Sony Discman plugged into the car's tape deck with a cassette converter. We had a great time roaring through the canyon switchbacks, and just about the time Christina started getting curious about where we were going, I turned off the main road to the dirt road and told her, "We have ten miles of dirt road to go." She laughed, and I continued driving, knowing Christina was tired of being in the car. I pulled over as we approached the top of a hill that overlooks the valley and exited the Mustang. As Balto found many trees to pee on, I stood next to Christina and said, this is the valley of family property I have been telling you about, and I pointed to a cabin off in the distance and said that is the cabin over there. She stood there in amazement and mentioned how quiet and peaceful it was. The winter months in this valley are so silent you can hear nothing but the wind gently blowing through the trees.

We drove down the valley another mile, and I parked in front of the cabin. As I opened the door to the house, it was freezing inside, and Christina said, "Wow! It is colder inside than it is outside." I laughed and told her there was no furnace because the cabin was only a seasonal place. Both of us were tired from driving the "long way," which prompted Christina to ask, "What would it take to warm the place up?" I replied, "Well, I would have to start a fire in the woodstove and the fireplace, and it would take an hour or so to warm the place up." I remember her big brown eyes and smile as she laughed and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? You better get started." As I gathered the necessary fire supplies, Christina rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator, looking for snacks. Although she would not earn the names of the Snack Attack Monster (SAM) or the Snack Gremlin for nearly a decade, they both made cameo appearances that day at the cabin.

As the fires raged, I told Christina we would run out of wood stored inside pretty quickly and would need to split more wood if we stayed for any time. She asked, "How much wood would we need to split if we stayed the night?" I told her, "If we split wood for about an hour, we should have enough." I asked what she wanted to do, inquiring if she wanted to stay the night or pack up and leave, and she said, "Everything I need is right here, so let's go and split wood." We got our boots on and went outside, where there were a bunch of round unsplit logs. I showed her how to split logs, and being the scary movie buff she was, she kept saying that I better be really good or she might turn into Jack Nicholson from Stephen King's The Shining. We stayed the night huddled up in the cabin, feeding the fire, roasting marshmallows for smores, talking about the future, and looking out at the stars through the picture window over the silence of the winter across the valley. It was perfect, and together, we were always so happy. As we both sat there staring at the licks of the flames in the wood stove and the fireplace, Christina defined us as twin flames for the first time.

Over the next two years of our young relationship, as we both completed our undergraduate degrees and began our professional careers, we visited the cabin many times. Unfortunately, in 2002, the house and acreage went up in smoke due to the Hayman Fire, and the entire family was devastated. The Hayman Fire was so intense inside the cabin that the cast iron wood stove melted and was a pool of cooled molten metal. The rocks were covered with black soot, and the pine trees looked like charred toothpicks. The entire valley felt more like landing on the surface of the moon.

After six years away from the valley, I became curious to see how the forest was looking, and beginning again in the summer of 2008, Christina and I went camping up there many times. Christina considered herself a "Boogie Girl," and our camping adventures were limited to no more than about three days of tent camping with the dogs, which was plenty of time. During each camping trip, over the night's campfire, while roasting marshmallows for smores, Christina continually revisited that winter night in 2000 by telling the story about how she watched the flames in the old cabin and recognized the twin flames hidden within each of us and how lucky we were to have found each other so early in life. Now that Christina is no longer here, I feel like I burn about half as bright as when we were together, and I will forever long for the day when our twin flames flicker together again. To the moon and back, I love you. Read less When Twin Flames Recognize Each Other

"The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind... Read more that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along."
Jadal ad-Din Rumi, 1207-1273

Navigation of an endless river of grief caused by sudden loss has a profound way of resurfacing events from the past that had all but vanished below the rapids of life ages ago. In life, so often, timing and recognition are everything, and one detail no one else knows is that when Christina and I first met, neither of us recognized the twin flame hidden within each of us. For those who may not be familiar with the difference between a twin flame and a soul mate, a twin flame is one soul split into two separate beings that, when reunited, ignite a profound union that transcends the physical and resonates deeply within the essence of the soul. In contrast, a soul mate is two separate souls that are extraordinarily linked. Christina and I always believed we were lucky to be both twin flames and soul mates. Twin Flames can sometimes meet and not recognize their deep spiritual connection because they still have work to do on themselves through their life's journey. Hence, timing and recognition are so important. As I stumble ahead, I am overwhelmed by memories and emotions of all the little details that made us uniquely Scott and Christina. Until now, no one other than Christina knows this story.

During what would have been Christina's first year at Grinnell College in Iowa, she came to visit Colorado State University (CSU), where I was enjoying my third year on campus. Christina desired to transfer to CSU after her brief stint in Iowa and was on campus checking things out with a close childhood friend with whom we were mutual friends. We briefly met in the hallway of the Lory Student Center outside Sweet Sensations Coffee Shop before coffee shops became the popular thing they are today. We shook hands, and Christina's childhood friend introduced us and informed me that Christina was checking to see if she wanted to transfer to CSU for the following year. Being the enthusiastic RAM I was, I told Christina that CSU was a great place to go to school. I remember it being an inconsequential, chance encounter lasting at most ten minutes. Little did we know at the time that seventeen months later, we would both recognize the twin flame and soul mate connection we had.

Of all the things I miss the most about Christina, the thousands of ordinary magical moments that define us are always on my mind. As I move further through the grieving process, there is nothing in my life that Christina wasn't an integral and necessary part of. This Christina story is about Christina's introduction to a portion of my childhood that makes up a thread within the fabric of my identity and existence.

Nestled deep within the Pike National Forrest in the shadow of the highest peak in Douglas County lies 39 acres of private, family-owned mountain property. Throughout our relationship's early and formative months, I had told Christina hundreds of stories about spending summers at the family cabin and all the adventures I had growing up there. She always listened with such amazement combined with some suspicion and curiosity because her worldly experience was nothing like mine at the time, having grown up worldwide as her family was stationed from one military base to the other. Thinking back now, I loved listening to Christina's stories about living abroad just as much as she loved or maybe tolerated my personal stories.

Christina's first visit to the family acreage was in the winter of 2000, after we had been dating for a little over six months and planned to get married sometime soon. We went to Colorado Springs to visit Christina's mom and my future mother-in-law, Chong Ae. After the visit, as we pulled away from her mom's house to head back to Fort Collins, I asked Christina if she wanted to go the "short way home" or the "long way home." To my surprise, she requested to go the long way home. We drove to the property with our dog Balto in the backseat of my 5.0 Ford Mustang, singing at the top of our lungs to whatever music she played on the Sony Discman plugged into the car's tape deck with a cassette converter. We had a great time roaring through the canyon switchbacks, and just about the time Christina started getting curious about where we were going, I turned off the main road to the dirt road and told her, "We have ten miles of dirt road to go." She laughed, and I continued driving, knowing Christina was tired of being in the car. I pulled over as we approached the top of a hill that overlooks the valley and exited the Mustang. As Balto found many trees to pee on, I stood next to Christina and said, this is the valley of family property I have been telling you about, and I pointed to a cabin off in the distance and said that is the cabin over there. She stood there in amazement and mentioned how quiet and peaceful it was. The winter months in this valley are so silent you can hear nothing but the wind gently blowing through the trees.

We drove down the valley another mile, and I parked in front of the cabin. As I opened the door to the house, it was freezing inside, and Christina said, "Wow! It is colder inside than it is outside." I laughed and told her there was no furnace because the cabin was only a seasonal place. Both of us were tired from driving the "long way," which prompted Christina to ask, "What would it take to warm the place up?" I replied, "Well, I would have to start a fire in the woodstove and the fireplace, and it would take an hour or so to warm the place up." I remember her big brown eyes and smile as she laughed and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? You better get started." As I gathered the necessary fire supplies, Christina rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator, looking for snacks. Although she would not earn the names of the Snack Attack Monster (SAM) or the Snack Gremlin for nearly a decade, they both made cameo appearances that day at the cabin.

As the fires raged, I told Christina we would run out of wood stored inside pretty quickly and would need to split more wood if we stayed for any time. She asked, "How much wood would we need to split if we stayed the night?" I told her, "If we split wood for about an hour, we should have enough." I asked what she wanted to do, inquiring if she wanted to stay the night or pack up and leave, and she said, "Everything I need is right here, so let's go and split wood." We got our boots on and went outside, where there were a bunch of round unsplit logs. I showed her how to split logs, and being the scary movie buff she was, she kept saying that I better be really good or she might turn into Jack Nicholson from Stephen King's The Shining. We stayed the night huddled up in the cabin, feeding the fire, roasting marshmallows for smores, talking about the future, and looking out at the stars through the picture window over the silence of the winter across the valley. It was perfect, and together, we were always so happy. As we both sat there staring at the licks of the flames in the wood stove and the fireplace, Christina defined us as twin flames for the first time.

Over the next two years of our young relationship, as we both completed our undergraduate degrees and began our professional careers, we visited the cabin many times. Unfortunately, in 2002, the house and acreage went up in smoke due to the Hayman Fire, and the entire family was devastated. The Hayman Fire was so intense inside the cabin that the cast iron wood stove melted and was a pool of cooled molten metal. The rocks were covered with black soot, and the pine trees looked like charred toothpicks. The entire valley felt more like landing on the surface of the moon.

After six years away from the valley, I became curious to see how the forest was looking, and beginning again in the summer of 2008, Christina and I went camping up there many times. Christina considered herself a "Boogie Girl," and our camping adventures were limited to no more than about three days of tent camping with the dogs, which was plenty of time. During each camping trip, over the night's campfire, while roasting marshmallows for smores, Christina continually revisited that winter night in 2000 by telling the story about how she watched the flames in the old cabin and recognized the twin flames hidden within each of us and how lucky we were to have found each other so early in life. Now that Christina is no longer here, I feel like I burn about half as bright as when we were together, and I will forever long for the day when our twin flames flicker together again. To the moon and back, I love you. Read less When Twin Flames Recognize Each Other

"The minute... Read more I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along."
Jadal ad-Din Rumi, 1207-1273

Navigation of an endless river of grief caused by sudden loss has a profound way of resurfacing events from the past that had all but vanished below the rapids of life ages ago. In life, so often, timing and recognition are everything, and one detail no one else knows is that when Christina and I first met, neither of us recognized the twin flame hidden within each of us. For those who may not be familiar with the difference between a twin flame and a soul mate, a twin flame is one soul split into two separate beings that, when reunited, ignite a profound union that transcends the physical and resonates deeply within the essence of the soul. In contrast, a soul mate is two separate souls that are extraordinarily linked. Christina and I always believed we were lucky to be both twin flames and soul mates. Twin Flames can sometimes meet and not recognize their deep spiritual connection because they still have work to do on themselves through their life's journey. Hence, timing and recognition are so important. As I stumble ahead, I am overwhelmed by memories and emotions of all the little details that made us uniquely Scott and Christina. Until now, no one other than Christina knows this story.

During what would have been Christina's first year at Grinnell College in Iowa, she came to visit Colorado State University (CSU), where I was enjoying my third year on campus. Christina desired to transfer to CSU after her brief stint in Iowa and was on campus checking things out with a close childhood friend with whom we were mutual friends. We briefly met in the hallway of the Lory Student Center outside Sweet Sensations Coffee Shop before coffee shops became the popular thing they are today. We shook hands, and Christina's childhood friend introduced us and informed me that Christina was checking to see if she wanted to transfer to CSU for the following year. Being the enthusiastic RAM I was, I told Christina that CSU was a great place to go to school. I remember it being an inconsequential, chance encounter lasting at most ten minutes. Little did we know at the time that seventeen months later, we would both recognize the twin flame and soul mate connection we had.

Of all the things I miss the most about Christina, the thousands of ordinary magical moments that define us are always on my mind. As I move further through the grieving process, there is nothing in my life that Christina wasn't an integral and necessary part of. This Christina story is about Christina's introduction to a portion of my childhood that makes up a thread within the fabric of my identity and existence.

Nestled deep within the Pike National Forrest in the shadow of the highest peak in Douglas County lies 39 acres of private, family-owned mountain property. Throughout our relationship's early and formative months, I had told Christina hundreds of stories about spending summers at the family cabin and all the adventures I had growing up there. She always listened with such amazement combined with some suspicion and curiosity because her worldly experience was nothing like mine at the time, having grown up worldwide as her family was stationed from one military base to the other. Thinking back now, I loved listening to Christina's stories about living abroad just as much as she loved or maybe tolerated my personal stories.

Christina's first visit to the family acreage was in the winter of 2000, after we had been dating for a little over six months and planned to get married sometime soon. We went to Colorado Springs to visit Christina's mom and my future mother-in-law, Chong Ae. After the visit, as we pulled away from her mom's house to head back to Fort Collins, I asked Christina if she wanted to go the "short way home" or the "long way home." To my surprise, she requested to go the long way home. We drove to the property with our dog Balto in the backseat of my 5.0 Ford Mustang, singing at the top of our lungs to whatever music she played on the Sony Discman plugged into the car's tape deck with a cassette converter. We had a great time roaring through the canyon switchbacks, and just about the time Christina started getting curious about where we were going, I turned off the main road to the dirt road and told her, "We have ten miles of dirt road to go." She laughed, and I continued driving, knowing Christina was tired of being in the car. I pulled over as we approached the top of a hill that overlooks the valley and exited the Mustang. As Balto found many trees to pee on, I stood next to Christina and said, this is the valley of family property I have been telling you about, and I pointed to a cabin off in the distance and said that is the cabin over there. She stood there in amazement and mentioned how quiet and peaceful it was. The winter months in this valley are so silent you can hear nothing but the wind gently blowing through the trees.

We drove down the valley another mile, and I parked in front of the cabin. As I opened the door to the house, it was freezing inside, and Christina said, "Wow! It is colder inside than it is outside." I laughed and told her there was no furnace because the cabin was only a seasonal place. Both of us were tired from driving the "long way," which prompted Christina to ask, "What would it take to warm the place up?" I replied, "Well, I would have to start a fire in the woodstove and the fireplace, and it would take an hour or so to warm the place up." I remember her big brown eyes and smile as she laughed and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? You better get started." As I gathered the necessary fire supplies, Christina rummaged through the cabinets and refrigerator, looking for snacks. Although she would not earn the names of the Snack Attack Monster (SAM) or the Snack Gremlin for nearly a decade, they both made cameo appearances that day at the cabin.

As the fires raged, I told Christina we would run out of wood stored inside pretty quickly and would need to split more wood if we stayed for any time. She asked, "How much wood would we need to split if we stayed the night?" I told her, "If we split wood for about an hour, we should have enough." I asked what she wanted to do, inquiring if she wanted to stay the night or pack up and leave, and she said, "Everything I need is right here, so let's go and split wood." We got our boots on and went outside, where there were a bunch of round unsplit logs. I showed her how to split logs, and being the scary movie buff she was, she kept saying that I better be really good or she might turn into Jack Nicholson from Stephen King's The Shining. We stayed the night huddled up in the cabin, feeding the fire, roasting marshmallows for smores, talking about the future, and looking out at the stars through the picture window over the silence of the winter across the valley. It was perfect, and together, we were always so happy. As we both sat there staring at the licks of the flames in the wood stove and the fireplace, Christina defined us as twin flames for the first time.

Over the next two years of our young relationship, as we both completed our undergraduate degrees and began our professional careers, we visited the cabin many times. Unfortunately, in 2002, the house and acreage went up in smoke due to the Hayman Fire, and the entire family was devastated. The Hayman Fire was so intense inside the cabin that the cast iron wood stove melted and was a pool of cooled molten metal. The rocks were covered with black soot, and the pine trees looked like charred toothpicks. The entire valley felt more like landing on the surface of the moon.

After six years away from the valley, I became curious to see how the forest was looking, and beginning again in the summer of 2008, Christina and I went camping up there many times. Christina considered herself a "Boogie Girl," and our camping adventures were limited to no more than about three days of tent camping with the dogs, which was plenty of time. During each camping trip, over the night's campfire, while roasting marshmallows for smores, Christina continually revisited that winter night in 2000 by telling the story about how she watched the flames in the old cabin and recognized the twin flames hidden within each of us and how lucky we were to have found each other so early in life. Now that Christina is no longer here, I feel like I burn about half as bright as when we were together, and I will forever long for the day when our twin flames flicker together again. To the moon and back, I love you. Read less

Scott Burke

2000, Pike National Forest, Colorado, USA

2000 or maybe 2001 Christina posing next to an old abandoned root cellar from sometime before each of our times. Before the Hayman Fire, there were still jars of canned goods inside this root cellar that were always fun to look at in old blue antique jars. Christina was amazed to see those when I showed them to her.