07/16/2026
Holden Stevie Ciccoricco 🩵
4 years and 1 month ago, on June 12th 2022, our beautiful son Holden was born. The 2 months and 21 days we had together were wonderful. Filled with happiness, excitement and wonder. The happiest time of my life.
Holden was happy, easy going and beautiful. His face lit up whenever he heard his big brother Lou. He loved snuggling with his dad. We read books to him, dressed him up in funny clothes, listened to some good music together. It was the best of times.
His birthday and the time leading up to it, and pretty much all Summer, are hard. As we try to hang on to the memories and the good times we had together, the grief knocks us off our feet, in waves, relentless, heavy, overpowering. In those moments, there’s not much to do but submit. Hold each other close, be together, be still, cry, just be and be with whatever comes up.
The past weeks I’ve been quiet here, on social media. I haven’t made any art. I didn’t feel like it.
Instead, I tried to spend as much time with my family as I could. With my husband Steve The Formative, our son Lou (8yo) and daughter Ella (2yo)
We did some traveling - to Tahoe, to wine country, some day trips here and there. Hung with friends. Slowed down. Moved my body. Rested.
On milestones, we get to say his name, share our grief. But in reality, it is with us all the time. Every day. Every night. Carrying an invisible load, its heaviness perhaps only fully understood by others who have lost a child.
It’s wild how you want to share stories about all your children, your 2 living children, and your child who is no longer walking the earth but just as present within you. Our love for him just as strong.
I use this platform mainly to share my art, but it is so connected to my personal life - my grief, my love, my loss - that I do feel the need to share that part of my life here.
Thank you to those of you who have been here, supporting us still. Thank you to those of you are new here, and willing to witness our family’s grief. Thank you for saying his name. For thinking of Holden now and then. For lighting a candle for him. For keeping his memory alive. It means the world to us. 🩵
