Lessons in Loss (Trigger Warning/Child Loss): By Steve Larsen
The devastating loss of a young son and the joyful discovery of an adult daughter shaped my understanding of family, grief, and the capacity for new beginnings.
There are moments in life that redefine us—events so profound they split our existence into “before” and “after.”
In my life, two such moments stand at opposite ends of the emotional spectrum. First, the devastating loss of my two-year-old son Eric in 1992 and the unexpected discovery, at age 68, of a daughter I never knew existed.
A Light Extinguished Too Soon
Eric McKinley Larsen was born on September 28, 1990, just two days before my 40th birthday. While his joyful arrival seemed normal at first, within his first week of life, some troubling signs appeared. These signs led to a diagnosis of congenital heart defects.
What followed was a medical odyssey that tested the limits of parental endurance.
For thirteen months, Eric’s home was the pediatric intensive care unit at Huntington Hospital in Pasadena, California. Through multiple surgeries and countless near-death experiences, our tiny fighter showed remarkable resilience.
One time, the doctors accidentally poisoned him with a 10X overdose of his antibiotic, but he recovered and thrived.
Eric’s strength appeared miraculous. Despite his doctors’ repeated predictions that he wouldn’t survive, he defied the odds time and again.
After more than a year in intensive care, he finally came home, where he blossomed.
His progress was rapid and remarkable. He was crawling on the living room floor, moving through developmental milestones, and the orthopedic specialists were amazed at how quickly his body was healing from earlier complications.
Daily Life Turned into Sorrow in an Instant
At home, Eric was the center of our family life. He and his sister Ginger were inseparable. We pulled him in his wagon everywhere, played silly games, and even took a weeklong trip to Big Bear, California.
When Eric needed another surgery at twenty months old, we proceeded with confidence. The operation went perfectly, with the surgeon reporting excellent results. But that evening, everything changed.
Despite explicit written orders not to remove Eric’s breathing tube overnight, an arrogant doctor did just that, with catastrophic consequences.
I knew even before we began racing down the 110 freeway to the hospital that they’d let him die. Our worst fears were confirmed when we arrived to find a futile resuscitation attempt.
He was gone, and I nearly died myself right then.
The aftermath was devastating. Grief consumed our family as we made an already-planned move to New York.
The next several years were marked by what I can only describe as a long, dark tunnel of anguish. But slowly, painfully, we began to find our way forward.
The Healing Process: Finding Purpose in Pain
How does one survive the unimaginable? For my family and me, multiple paths emerged.
Therapy helped our daughter, Ginger, process her loss and complex feelings. For me, an unexpected encounter years later would provide another avenue for healing.
In 2012, a chance meeting at a Phoenix Starbucks with Joanne Cacciatore, founder of the MISS Foundation, connected me with an organization dedicated to supporting parents experiencing the death of a child.
Through this work, I discovered that my tragedy could become a source of empathy and service to others facing similar losses.
The death of a child is one of the most catastrophic events a human being can ever experience. Parents who lose children are twice as likely to die in the 15 years following their child’s death as parents who haven’t experienced such a loss.
But I’ve also observed something remarkable about those who survive this journey: they often become extraordinarily effective parents to their remaining or future children.
Lessons in Loss: What the Grieving Process Taught Me About Parenting
The perspective gained through loss strips away superficial concerns about achievements, grades, and competitions. Instead, replacing them with a profound appreciation for life itself.
If your children are alive, be happy. Feel lucky!
Don’t worry so much about how they measure up to artificial standards that mean next to nothing.
This wisdom became evident in my parenting of Ginger after Eric’s death. Rather than pushing her toward external markers of success, I supported her unconditionally, giving her the freedom to explore and define her path.
The bar she had to meet to be a stunning success in my view was to just live. Be alive. Anything more was icing on the cake.
An Unexpected Discovery
Twenty-five years after losing Eric, with no expectation of expanding my family further, I received a phone call that would once again transform my life. My cousin, Roger Larsen, opened with a simple question: “You sitting down?”
He proceeded to tell me about an email he received from a woman who said she was my daughter. “She sounds really nice,” he said, as I tried to process what he was telling me.
“I just forwarded you the email she sent me about herself,” Roger continued. “I’m going to hang up now, but you should read it. And I know you Cuz, you’ll do the right thing.”
This startling revelation came from a 23andMe DNA test taken by Christie Will, a 39-year-old woman who had grown up never knowing her birth father’s identity. When her results revealed a match with me, it upended everything she thought she knew about her origins.
Christie’s email to Roger was cautious but hopeful. “I’m not sure if I would want to meet him or if I would want him to meet his grandchildren,” she wrote. “The best-case scenario in my mind would be that he would tell me about his life and about his family.”
My reply to Christie set the tone for what would follow: “I am thrilled you reached out to me and would love to meet you, your daughters, and your husband if you want that…In fact, your entire letter was so expressive and beautifully written I can’t imagine any man not being thrilled by the idea he might be related to you.”
A Family Reunited
When Maggie, Ginger, and I met Christie for the first time in Minneapolis in April 2019, the connection was immediate and profound. Nothing had prepared me for what I would feel. I was instantly overwhelmed with love for this person and her children.
The fear and trepidation I felt before the meeting evaporated like wet footprints around an Arizona pool in the middle of the hot, dry summer. A family was formed in an instant, and the bond has only strengthened since.
Christie captured the significance of our reunion in a Father’s Day speech at her church.
“The very thing that had internally shaped the person I am today was based on something that hadn’t even been true,” she said. “My father had not abandoned me. He was merely unaware of my existence.”
Discovering Christie and her family has been a joy that mirrors the intensity of my earlier loss—but in the opposite direction.
The remarkable physical resemblance between Christie’s daughter Parker and Ginger at the same age, the similar personalities and interests between the half-sisters, and the immediate connection among all family members have created a sense of wholeness that once seemed impossible.
Lessons in Loss and Discovery
My journey through profound loss and unexpected joy has taught me several lessons that might help others cope with unresolved grief and navigate life’s unpredictable terrain:
Grief doesn’t end, but it transforms. The pain of losing Eric has never disappeared, but it evolved into a deeper appreciation for life and a capacity to help others facing similar losses.
Loss reshapes priorities. After losing a child, the pressure for achievement and success often falls away, replaced by gratitude for the simple gift of existence.
Unconditional love is the foundation of healing. Whether parenting a surviving child after loss or welcoming a newfound family member, acceptance without judgment creates the space for genuine connection.
It’s never too late for new beginnings. At 68, I discovered a new chapter of family life that has brought unmeasured joy and expanded my sense of purpose.
DNA testing is revolutionizing family connections. What was once impossible—discovering unknown relatives decades after separation—is now increasingly common, creating both challenges and opportunities for families.
Not Everyone Will Have a Personal Experience With Loss Like Mine, But Everyone Will Experience Grief
When I reflect on these two profound experiences—the devastating loss of my son and the miraculous discovery of my daughter—I’m struck by life’s capacity for both unbearable pain and unexpected joy.
The universe seems to operate with a certain balance, though rarely on a timeline we can anticipate or understand.
Today, my expanded family continues to grow closer. Ginger and Christie have formed a deep sisterly bond, making up for lost time.
We travel together and celebrate holidays as a family.
Christie’s daughters call Maggie and me Grandma and Grandpa without hesitation.
These experiences have taught me that life isn’t about balancing losses with gains. The joy of discovering Christie doesn’t erase or replace the grief of losing Eric—both experiences exist within me simultaneously, distinct chapters of the same life.
What they share is how deeply they’ve shaped who I am.
Perhaps that’s the most important lesson of all: even in our darkest moments, life holds the potential for renewal and connection. Family—lost and found—remains at the heart of our most meaningful human experiences, reminding us that our capacity to love is never truly diminished, only transformed.
What lessons in loss have you learned? Let us know in the comment section below.
Learn More About Steve and His Lessons in Loss
Steve Larsen is a man of many dimensions. A serial entrepreneur who helped shape the digital age, his companies created technologies that would later power Facebook, Google, and Amazon.com.
Through three open-heart surgeries and the devastating loss of a son, he’s demonstrated the same fierce resilience in his personal life that propelled his entrepreneurial success.
A natural explorer, Steve has carved his way through 18 countries and 43 states on two wheels, chronicling his motorcycle odysseys in top-tier riding magazines for more than two decades. His new book, My Heart Has Been in It from the Start, recounts his personal journey and highlights the power of the human spirit.
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