Brave 10-Year-Old Girl, Miya Brenton, Submits Essay and Let’s Talk Grief Book Update

Miya Brenton

Last month I met with Joan Brenton in Toronto, Canada. She had submitted an essay for the second Let’s Talk Grief book, Let’s Talk Grief 2: Successful Grief Stories From the Real Experts.

Joan and I had a wonderful conversation about her life and the loss of her son, Tyler, who died from fentanyl poisoning on April 24, 2024. Tyler had one child Miya. After Tyler's death, Miya, moved in with her grandmother, Joan and grandfather, Poppa T.

Two weeks after my visit with Joan, she sent me an email describing what happened while she was working on the revision of her essay I emailed to her.

While I was working on my essay "Unshaken", Miya asked me what I was doing. I explained that I was writing an essay for a book. Miya expressed an interest and asked if she could write an essay for the book too. I encouraged her interest and told her that I could help her after I finished my essay. And said I would ask you if she could submit it for the book.

Joan had no idea I was accepting essays from children and asked me if Miya could submit one. I said, “Yes!”

Two days later, Miya submitted her essay. What a BRAVE girl!

I had been hoping to collect essays from teenagers and children and had sent invitations to grief support groups asking them to invite teenagers and children to submit essays. But received none. Then, Miya volunteered to submit her essay.

I wanted to include children’s essays in the book because the so-called grief experts and the grief community have underserved them and also ignored their knowledge, perspective, and insight on grief.

Thank you, Miya, for stepping up to the plate and hitting a home run with your essay!

As you will read, it is a beautifully written essay. So much so that I decided to publish Miya’s and Joan’s essays in the first Let’s Talk Grief book. Thankfully, I was still in the final editing stage and could include their essays in the first book.

Let's Talk Grief Book Update and New Release Date

I will receive one more final draft for edits and approval. If I approve this last copy, the book will be available for purchase in October.

Essay Submissiions For Let's Talk Grief 2 Book

I'm still accepting essays for the second Let's Talk Grief book. If you would like to submit an essay, contact me through the “Get In Touch” form on the Let’s Talk Grief website. I need 25 more essays.

I Will Always Be Dadda's “Love Bug” By Miya Mary Anna Edna Brenton (Age 10 years)

Miya and her Dadda, Tyler Brenton

I was seven years old when my Dadda died. People sometimes think that because I was young, I might not remember much about him. But I do. I remember his hugs. I remember feeling safe with him and all the fun things we did together. Most of all, I remember what he called me.

My Dadda called me his "Love Bug." Every time he said it, I smiled. He would say, "I love you, Love Bug." It was our special thing.

Then one day, everything changed.

My Dadda wasn't here anymore. I didn't understand why. I wanted one more hug. I wanted to hear him call me "Love Bug" just one more time.

After Dadda died, I kept living on the farm with Nanna and Poppa T and their dogs, Buddy and Tazzy. I missed my home. I missed my friends. I missed my dog, Oakley. I missed my Momma. I had so many questions. Some nights I would lie awake wondering when I would see Momma again and wishing Dadda would come back. Nanna and Poppa T helped me through those hard days. Nanna's puppies, Tazzy and Buddy, became my puppies too. They made me feel safe when I missed my dog, Oakley.

Sometimes I wanted to talk about Dadda, but seeing Nanna cry hurt almost as much as missing him. So sometimes I stayed quiet. What I didn't know then was that Nanna was trying to be strong for me, just like I was trying to be strong for her. We were both missing the same person.

Over time, something changed. We learned how to talk about Dadda again. We learned how to tell stories and smile without crying every time. We learned that memories didn't always have to hurt.

Miya, her Dadda and dogs

One of my favorite memories is our Strawberry Patch. My Dadda loved the color red and strawberries. So Nanna and I planted a Strawberry Patch just for him, with red flowers and lots of strawberry plants, including the one he planted himself when he brought it to the Farm. I made a special sign, decorated it beautifully just for Dadda, and hung it in the patch. Dadda's plant still grows the biggest strawberries and has the most berries every year. I think that's his way of reminding us that he is still with us. Every time the strawberries grow, I think about my Dadda. It feels like a little piece of him is still with me.

Every summer, Nanna takes me home to Newfoundland. That is my favorite part of the year. I visit the places where Dadda grew up. I play on the same beach he used to take me to. I spend time with my Aunties, Uncles, cousins, and friends. Some are old friends, and some are new friends…..BUT one thing is always the same every year: I know that everyone there loved my Dadda. Everyone misses him too. Hearing their stories helps me feel close to him. It reminds me that his story is still living in all of us. When I'm there, I feel connected to my family, my memories, and the place that will always be home.

Every year on October 29th, we celebrate Dadda's birthday. Nanna, Poppa T, and I make his favorite rib dinner. And every year, I make his birthday cake. We tell stories. We laugh. We remember. What used to make us cry now also makes us smile. It is our way of celebrating Dadda and keeping him close.

I also keep pictures of Dadda everywhere. At first, they filled my room. Now they fill my phone too. Pictures of Dadda. Pictures of Momma. Pictures of family and friends. I keep them because I never want to forget. When I miss someone, I can look at those pictures and remember the love.

Even now, there are days when I miss Dadda, Momma, Oakley, my friends, and my old home. Sometimes all at once. But now I know I don't have to carry those feelings alone. All I have to do is look at Nanna and say, "I miss Dadda." And she understands. She hugs me. She listens. She remembers with me.

I used to be afraid that I would forget him. But I know now that I never will. I have his pictures. I have his stories from Nanna, who loves telling me all about him. I have our Strawberry Patch. I have Newfoundland. I have the beach he used to take me to. I have our birthday parties on October 29th every year. And most of all, I have him in my heart.

I was only seven years old when my Dadda died, but losing him changed me forever. It taught me that life can be hard. But it also taught me that love is stronger than loss. Love becomes the stories we tell. Love becomes the pictures we keep. Love becomes the strawberries we grow. Love becomes the beach where we remember. Love becomes the birthday cakes we bake. Love becomes the hugs that help us through the hard days. Even when people are gone, their love stays behind.

Miya, a quiet and peaceful place to talk with her Dadda.

No matter how old I get, I will always love my Dadda. Because before anything else, I was his little girl. I was his Love Bug. And no matter what happens, that will never change.

I will always be Dadda's Love Bug.