A lived experience of loss
Michelle writes from inside the loss of David, with the directness of a mother whose love for her son remains part of every day.
I am Still Here, Mom
A mother’s personal account of loss, lasting love, and the moments that made her ask whether connection can continue after death.
Michelle Lyn shares what happened after the death of her nineteen-year-old son, David, in a story that makes room for grief, memory, signs, and unanswered questions.

Grief is often surrounded by advice. People may offer timelines, stages, or ways to move forward, even when the loss is too personal to fit neatly into any of them. A memoir offers a different kind of company. It gives a reader space to sit beside a real story, to recognize what feels familiar, and to leave room for what does not.
I am Still Here, Mom is Michelle Lyn’s account of losing her son David in 2022. It begins in the devastation of that loss, then follows the signs, synchronicities, people, and experiences that made Michelle question what death, Heaven, and an enduring bond with David could mean. She writes as a mother sharing her own life, not as someone asking another person to grieve in a particular way.
That distinction matters. This memoir does not promise to solve grief or make sorrow easier. It tells the truth about a love that remains present after a death, and about the search for meaning that can begin when a person feels they have run out of answers.
Michelle writes from inside the loss of David, with the directness of a mother whose love for her son remains part of every day.
The book makes room for questions about death, signs, Heaven, and continued connection without claiming there is one answer for everyone.
Readers can move through the memoir slowly, pause when they need to, and return to a passage when a memory or difficult day calls for company.
Some books about grief are practical guides. They may offer exercises, clinical language, or structured support. Those resources can be valuable. A personal memoir has another role. It gives a reader access to someone else’s honest experience without asking them to measure their own life against a set of steps.
Michelle does not write about grief as something a person should finish, fix, or leave behind. She writes about David, the space his absence created, and the experiences that led her to listen more closely when she thought she had no strength left for another question. Her words can be a companion for a reader who wants honesty more than instruction.
The book is not a substitute for counseling or professional support. It is one mother’s account, and a reader can take comfort from the recognition of love and loss while choosing the care that is right for them.

This is not a book about grief in the abstract. At its center is David, Michelle’s son, a young man who was loved, known, and deeply missed. Keeping him present matters because loss is not only about what happened. It is also about the person whose absence changes ordinary life, the future that was imagined, and the family that continues to love them.
Michelle shares the experiences that followed David’s death with directness. A pattern would repeat. A person would enter her path at a moment that felt meaningful. A message would seem to meet a question she had barely voiced. She also writes about journal conversations with David and her spirit guide, which became part of her search to understand what death, Heaven, and connection could mean to her.
These experiences are not presented as proof that everyone will have the same ones. They are part of Michelle’s truth. For some readers, the spiritual reflections may feel familiar or comforting. For others, the lasting value may be the way she gives grief permission to be complicated, loving, and unfinished.
I am Still Here, Mom may be meaningful for an adult grieving a child, a parent, a partner, a friend, or another person whose presence is still felt every day. It may also speak to readers who want an intimate story rather than a general overview of grief, especially if they are open to Michelle’s reflections on signs, continued connection, and life beyond death.
A memoir can be opened on a quiet evening, set aside after a difficult passage, or revisited on a birthday, an anniversary, or an ordinary day that suddenly becomes heavy. The reader decides how close to let the story come. Michelle’s spiritual perspective is central to the book, but it is shared as her own experience, not a demand that a reader adopt her beliefs.
Readers seeking a story specifically from a mother after the death of her child can explore Michelle’s memoir for grieving parents. For a broader introduction to the book’s themes of loss and enduring love, visit Michelle’s page about grief and loss. Readers who want reflections focused on life after death can also explore Michelle’s personal perspective on the afterlife.
I am Still Here, Mom is available as a softcover for $16.99 and as an e-book for $7.99. Choose the edition that gives you the most comfortable way to spend time with Michelle’s story.
Yes. It is Michelle Lyn’s personal account of losing her son David, the grief that followed, and the signs, questions, and journal conversations that changed how she carried that loss.
This book shares one mother’s lived experience instead of offering instructions or a clinical process. Its spiritual reflections on signs, Heaven, and continued connection are central to Michelle’s story.
No. I am Still Here, Mom is a personal memoir, not medical, mental health, or clinical grief advice.
I am Still Here, Mom is available in softcover and e-book editions through Balboa Press, and it is also available on Amazon.