Soren left a trail of love wherever he went.

In July 2019, our son Soren died after a 16-month experience with a rare, aggressive pediatric brain cancer. He was almost four. His life was full of sweetness, play, and a remarkably generous kind of love.

We learned to hold more than one thing.

During Soren’s illness, our family kept returning to the same impossible questions. How do we hold fear and still seek joy? How do we face what is happening without letting it erase the love right in front of us?

We spent time outside. We sang, explored, played in the mud, laughed, cried, and told one another “I love you” often. We called it soaking each other in. Those choices did not make the fear disappear. They helped us remain connected inside it.

Then the questions changed.

After Soren died, we discovered how little most of us are taught about grief. We were looking for ways to move forward without leaving him behind, to support our daughters while grieving ourselves, and to hold gratitude without minimizing pain.

Burrow is our long-term relationship with those questions. We combine lived experience, careful research, creative practice, and honest conversation. We are not here to provide a tidy answer. We are here to make the questions less lonely.