Teresita Leilani Kinser https://youtu.be/g3bz2BfhURk?si=- Today didn’t go the way I thought it would.  I hadn’t slept at all since finding out about Leilani last night at 11:15 p.m. By the time morning came, I was already running on grief and exhaustion. My father and I went to her church expecting there to be a service for her. There wasn’t one after all. Instead, there was a regular Sunday service. That wasn’t what I expected — but I stayed. And honestly, I needed the Word. It wasn’t what I went there for, but it was what I needed. This was the church Leilani attended. It’s also the church she directed my dad to for GriefShare. Sitting there felt like being in a place she had already shaped with her presence. People already knew my name because of my father’s grief meetings. That alone made the moment heavier. I hadn’t been there before, but I wasn’t a stranger either. My dad also took his first communion today. Ever. Watching that happen on a day centered around l...

I hate death. Death is the thief in every story. It doesn’t care about timing, or who still needs who, or how much unfinished love there is. It just takes. And when you’ve already lost, losing again feels like it’s piling on for no reason. I’m not wrong to hate death. God hates death too. “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” (1 Corinthians 15:26, NIV) “I take no pleasure in the death of anyone.” (Ezekiel 18:32, NIV) Death steals voices. It steals chances to say things again. It steals people who were still doing good in the world. What hurts extra here is that Leilani was tied to my mom’s memory. She was part of that bridge back to her. So this isn’t just one loss — it’s layered on top of the first one. But my mother’s death does not overshadow Leilani’s. This is not only about my mom. This is about Leilani, and the life she lived. It’s okay to say, “I hate death.” That’s not faithlessness. That’s love refusing to pretend this is okay. This is not okay. Not okay for us, be...

  I had just sent Leilani this message on the 17th. I never received a response. I figured that life kept people busy, so I didn't think about it too much. I had no idea she had died three days before. She never received it. I only learned about this a few hours ago, when her sister texted my father.  Initially, I thought it was her fiancé. Later, I found out he didn’t have access to her phone — only her sister did. I wrote the following to honor her: From my book series, Operating Without a Manual: Phase IV — Chapter 2/2 “My mom’s friends — Leilani and Mary. Women who loved her and didn’t disappear after she was gone. That meant more than they know.” Leilani now rests in a place already written into my story. Her name lives in my book because her presence lived in my life. She was in my story and in my life. She showed me comfort during my time of loss — her friend, my mother. On the very morning my mother passed, Leilani had spent time with her at the thrift store. She...