Cover photo for Christiana Young's Obituary
Christiana Young Profile Photo
1999 Christiana 2021

Christiana Young

December 17, 1999 — November 26, 2021

Life In Color

I see you in stages.

You have given grief a color,

You’ve painted it’s impermanence in twelve different fragments.

Healing in time,

A dance where we learn that every step is emulated in small doses.

Our universal distinctive,

Moment by moment.

Grief by grief.

Every segment will be nothing the same as another.

Every station will seem stagnant, in a dance you’ve felt as though there’s been no progression.

You’re in perfect harmony.


An overwhelming prelude of numbness.

The depth and length vary.

We will crawl before we walk again into our next steps.

Once we’ve overcome this paralyzing emotion, we won't be balancing ourselves on pins & needles anymore.

Inhale then exhale.

Captivate it.

Then set it all free.

It’s gone.


All on the inside we will crumble, break and fall apart.

It’s like swimming,

At first you’ll panic, because you’ve realized the inevitability of holding on.

Then you’ll surrender, because you’ve realized the inevitability of letting go.


At first we will neglect it.

We will avoid it until we realize it’s a void that can not be untamed.


The worry of the unknown.

Not knowing where these dirt roads will lead us, and if these bridges we walk on will lead us to a stronger foundation.

Still take the leaps anyway.


The times when we’ll ask ourselves...

“What if…?”

“What did I mistake to leave unsaid and undone?”

We will inflict these wounds onto ourselves.

We’ll be deadening peace, because of regrets.

You’ve honored her because you’ve lived.

It won’t be simplicit but carry on.


“Why her”?

If it bleeds, do not question why you’ve been cut, but rather how you’re going to bandage, grow and accept the wounds we can not change.

Intense emotions,

The emotional turmoil of all the highs and lows.

It’ll feel like a pit of darkness.

Darkness is an infinite void, but the light will hollow this concept.

You’ll see beyond the walls of this cave and climb through.


We’ll find grace and grit in the memories that we’ve shared.

The poetry we’ve created will exist with comfort not sorrow.


You did not perish, you are still the essence of every little thing.


The acceptance that losing you has changed us.

All at once every jigsaw piece falls together in place.

I see you in stages,

These movements are linear, but Stardust is what I'll whisper to you when I’ve reached solace.

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