One mother's experience
Michelle tells the story in her own words, from the shock of losing David to the moments that led her to see their bond in a new way.
I am Still Here, Mom
Books for Grieving Parents
When the loss of a child has changed everything, another parent's honest story can offer a quiet place to feel less alone.
I am Still Here, Mom is Michelle Lyn's personal account of losing her nineteen-year-old son, David, and the signs, questions, and moments of connection that followed.
A story from one parent to another.
There is no right way to carry the loss of a child. Some days bring questions that have no easy answer. Some days bring a memory, a song, a familiar number, or a small moment that feels impossible to dismiss. For many grieving parents, the hardest part is not only missing their child. It is finding somewhere their love is allowed to remain present.
Michelle Lyn wrote I am Still Here, Mom after the death of her son David in 2022. She does not offer a formula for grief or ask readers to believe exactly as she does. Instead, she shares what happened to her: the early signs that caught her attention, the people David led her to, the validations that made her pause, and the journal conversations that changed the questions she was asking.
Her voice is direct, personal, and rooted in the love of a mother for her son. That is what makes this book different from a general grief resource. It is not written from a distance. It is a lived account of loss and of the connection Michelle believes continued after David died.
What you will find inside
Questions held with care
The book makes room for the questions many bereaved parents carry about death, Heaven, purpose, signs, and what might come next.
A conversation to return to
Through journal entries and reflections, readers can move through the book at their own pace instead of being asked to find quick answers.
For parents, and for those who love them.
Parents grieving a child often need different things at different times. Sometimes it is space. Sometimes it is the comfort of knowing another parent understands the depth of the bond. Sometimes it is simply a book that treats their child as someone still deeply loved, not a chapter they are expected to close.
This book may be meaningful for a mother or father who wants to read a personal story of loss and continued connection. It can also be a thoughtful gift for a grieving parent when you want to acknowledge their child and their love, but ordinary sympathy cards do not feel like enough.
Because the book shares Michelle's spiritual experiences and reflections on Heaven, it will be best suited to readers who are open to exploring those ideas through one mother's story. It is a memoir, not professional grief or mental health advice. Readers can take from it what feels true and leave the rest.
“This book gave me a part of my son back that I never imagined was possible.”
Kelly Head, Goodreads
What makes a personal story different.
When you are grieving a child, advice can sometimes feel far away from the reality of the day. Even well-meant words can sound as though someone is trying to solve something that cannot be solved. A personal story offers something else. It does not ask a reader to follow a prescribed path. It simply says, this happened to me, this is what I noticed, and this is what I came to believe.
Michelle's story begins with the devastating loss of David, but it does not end there. She writes about the signs and synchronicities that drew her attention, the people she felt David led her to, and the validations that followed. She also shares the questions she asked about his experience after death, what Heaven might be like, and what their relationship could mean now. Those reflections are intimate and personal, which gives each reader space to meet the book in their own way.
For some parents, the most meaningful part of a memoir is the recognition of emotions they have not been able to name. For others, it may be permission to sit with questions about their own child without being told what conclusion to reach. Michelle does not present grief as something to finish or get over. She writes as a mother whose love for her son remains part of her life.
The journal conversations in the book are especially central to that journey. Michelle shares them as part of her own search to understand what David wanted her to know and how she could continue living with the love she has for him. They are not presented as a demand that anyone else's grief must look the same. They are part of the story, alongside the uncertainty, the questions, and the moments that Michelle experienced as deeply meaningful.
That slower, personal approach can make the book easier to return to. A reader may want to move through it in one sitting, pause after a chapter, or revisit a particular reflection on a difficult date. There is no required way to read a memoir like this. It can be a companion during an early season of grief, a reminder of a child who is still loved years later, or a gift kept close until the moment feels right.
That does not mean the book will speak to every reader in the same way. Its spiritual perspective is an essential part of Michelle's account. Readers who are curious about signs, continued connection, Heaven, or communication beyond death may find those parts especially resonant. Readers who are unsure may still find value in hearing how one mother made sense of experiences that changed her understanding of loss.
If you are choosing the book for someone else, this personal quality matters. You are not giving them a set of rules for how to grieve. You are offering a mother's story they can approach privately, in their own time, and return to whenever they feel ready.
A thoughtful gift for a grieving parent.
Choosing a gift after a child has died can feel impossible. You may worry about saying the wrong thing, or about bringing up a loss the parent is already living with every day. A book cannot take away that pain. What it can do is offer a private, pressure-free companion, one they can open when they are ready and set down when they need to.
I am Still Here, Mom gives the recipient a mother's honest voice, rather than a list of instructions for how they should feel. For someone who is looking for signs, wondering about their child's ongoing presence, or simply longing to hear from another parent who understands, that kind of recognition can matter deeply.
The softcover is $16.99 and the e-book is $7.99. You can choose the format that feels right for the reader, whether you are purchasing it for yourself or sending it to someone you care about.
Frequently asked questions
Who is I am Still Here, Mom for?
It is for parents grieving the death of a child, people supporting a grieving parent, and readers who are open to one mother's personal reflections on signs, Heaven, and connection after loss.
Is this a grief guide or a memoir?
It is a memoir. Michelle shares her own story, including the signs, conversations, and questions that shaped her understanding after her son David died.
Can I give this book to a grieving mother or father?
Yes. It can be a thoughtful gift for a grieving parent who may find comfort in a personal story from another mother who has lived through the loss of a child.
Where can I buy the book?
I am Still Here, Mom is available as a softcover and e-book through Balboa Press, and it is also available on Amazon.