Evergreen Moose was born from some of the deepest losses of my life. The first was with my Mom. She got diagnosed with Pancreatic cancer and within four months she was gone…from her physical body. As I was flooded with grief, I began to notice signs. I felt strongly that they were her. One of the most incredibly strong ones was about 3 months after she passed. A few days before my birthday, I was talking with my wife about it being the first year that I won’t have a cake from my mom. It’s funfetti cake, simple. She always give me a hard time saying it was so boring. Anyways, as we were talking, a hummingbird flew in between us, looked a me and then at Tina and at me again and flew off. In that moment, I told Tina that was mom. On my birthday, my friend, g, shows up with the funfetti cake my mom always made. The friend is our earth angel. My mom was telling me she’s got this and sure enough she did.
The next big loss in my life was my brother-in-law, Anthony. This loss was different. Unexpected with zero knowing. He was traveling for work and had a brain anerism and did not come out of his coma. Like that, 27 years old, he is gone…from his physical body. My sister is one of the strongest people that I know. She lost two of her best friends, my mom and her husband, in a matter of two years. The grief was heavy and the time felt like it stood still meanwhile the world moves on. Anthony’s signs are dragonflies, eagles and dimes. Every trip I have taken this year, an eagle has flew over and landed and stayed. I know it is Anthony and I can feel his love still, through his soul.
On December 13, 2023, we had to say goodbye to our beloved pup, PJ. He had an aggressive cancer and we lost him within a few weeks. He wasn’t just our pet. He was our sweet boy, the joy, our comfort, and our everyday reminder that love doesn’t need words. He was our soul dog. Often we called him our hippy dog because he was just so chill. He was the first pup my wife and I got together. I felt like I was punched in the stomach with another loss. And the continued heartbreak of saying goodbye to all of our other beloved fur babies KoKo, Cubbie, and Wolfie.
Each loss has reshaped my world. Through them, I learned the importance of slowing down, listening deeply, and finding comfort in the quiet strength of nature and connection.
The grief was overwhelming. But in that pain, something quietly took root.
I found myself walking on a trail in Lory State Park. The trees were still. The light filtered through branches like whispers of comfort. I wasn’t looking for anything. I just needed to breathe. But those quiet moments started bringing a new kind of peace.
Each walk helped. Each step gave space for sorrow, and eventually, for hope.
That’s when Evergreen Moose began to take shape—not just as a name, but a purpose.
I started creating small, meaningful pieces that reminded me of the comfort I felt outdoors. Wood ornaments, coasters, keepsakes—all created to hold memories close and let love linger.
Evergreen Moose is more than products. It’s about honoring every season of life—joyful or hard.
It’s about the signs we feel after loss: the hummingbird outside your window, the butterfly that lingers. I saw them often. They reminded me PJ was still with me, in his own way.
Now, I pour that meaning into every item I create.
Through grief, creativity gave me hope. Through nature, I found healing. Through Evergreen Moose, I hope to pass that on to you.
Whether you’re honoring a loved one or celebrating the simple moments, I hope our creations bring a bit of peace, a bit of joy—and remind you that love always finds a way to stay.