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My name is Katrina Edwards, and if there is one thing I have learned throughout my life, it is that grief changes us but it does not have to define us.

I am a certified life coach, grief advocate, public speaker, volunteer leader, donor hero mother, wife, mother, and the founder of Grief2Heal. More importantly, I am someone who has walked through deep loss, heartbreak, trauma, and life's unexpected challenges and found a way to keep standing.

My journey with grief began long before I understood what grief was. As a child, I faced medical challenges that required surgery and months of rehabilitation. I learned resilience at a young age as I fought to regain my mobility and confidence. Soon after, I became a caregiver to my beloved Aunt Millie as she battled stomach cancer. While most children were focused on homework and playdates, I was helping administer medication, changing colostomy bags, and witnessing firsthand what it meant to love someone through the final chapter of their life.

Loss continued to visit my life in many forms. At sixteen years old, a devastating fire destroyed my bedroom and nearly everything I owned. Years later, after becoming a young mother, I would experience the greatest heartbreak of my life.

On August 4, 2000, I gave birth to my first son, Jaleel Michael Williams. For five beautiful weeks, I dreamed of his future and imagined all the milestones we would share together. Then, on September 11, 2000, my world changed forever.

After a sudden medical crisis, I was forced to make the unimaginable decision to remove my baby boy from life support. On September 16, 2000, Jaleel passed away. In the midst of my deepest grief, I chose to donate his organs. His tiny heart saved a two-month-old baby boy, and his liver saved an eleven-month-old baby girl.

Even in death, my son became a hero.

For many years after losing Jaleel, I struggled to find my way. I battled depression, questioned my faith, and searched for a reason to keep moving forward. There were seasons when surviving one day at a time felt like an accomplishment.

Yet God was not finished with my story.

My second son, Anthony, gave me a reason to keep fighting when I could not see the light ahead. Through additional hardships including losing nearly everything in a devastating flood while living in Georgia I learned that grief is not limited to death. We grieve lost dreams, lost security, lost relationships, lost identities, and the versions of ourselves we once knew.

Each loss taught me something new about healing.

Over time, I discovered that healing does not mean forgetting. Healing does not mean "getting over it." Healing means learning how to carry your grief while still allowing yourself to live, love, hope, and dream again.

Today, I have the privilege of serving families through my work with LiveOnNY, the same organization that supported me when I made the decision to donate Jaleel's organs more than two decades ago. What began as part of my healing journey became part of my purpose. I now work with donor families, transplant recipients, volunteers, healthcare professionals, faith communities, and individuals navigating some of life's most difficult moments.

One of the most meaningful moments of my life occurred when I returned to the very hospital where Jaleel spent his final days and reunited with the nurse who cared for him over twenty years earlier. I was finally able to tell her the words I had carried in my heart all those years:

"Thank you."

That moment reminded me that even our deepest wounds can become places of healing.

Grief2Heal was born from that belief.

I created this space because I know what it feels like to think no one understands your pain. I know what it feels like to wonder if you will ever feel joy again. I know what it feels like to survive when your heart is broken.

My mission is simple: to hold space for grief while making room for healing.

Whether you are grieving the loss of a loved one, facing a life transition, struggling after a traumatic experience, or simply trying to find your way through a difficult season, I want you to know that you do not have to walk that journey alone.

I am not here because I studied grief.

I am here because I have lived it.

And if my story teaches us anything, it is this:

You can grieve deeply and still heal.
You can break and still rebuild.
You can lose so much and still find purpose.

You can be hurt and still be hopeful.

You can be grieving and still be standing.