It’s finished. Here it is. The Hawaiian-themed mural and set design for Rilyn’s Corner at her elementary school, made in memory of a little girl who loved Hawaii, sea turtles, and Lilo & Stitch.
Her sister painted it. Her best friend painted it. Her classmates, her family, volunteers, and tradespeople all put their hands on this wall.
That was on purpose. I wanted the children to have something to do with their hands. Grief is enormous, especially for children, and they don’t always have the words for it. Art gives them somewhere to put some of what they’re carrying.








The most meaningful part for me was teaching them different techniques and skills and watching them take ownership of what they were creating. Seeing the look of accomplishment on their faces when they stepped back and saw what they had made was priceless.
The two girls on the paddle boards below are Avery and Rilyn. They are sitting beside each other looking at the horizon. Sometimes there is nothing to say and nothing to fix. Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is sit beside someone.
The dolphin represents a gentle guide forward for everyone who knew Rilyn and her family.
The volcano represents Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of fire, strength, transformation, and the ability to create something new from what has been destroyed.
Aloha Ohana reflects the core Hawaiian belief that you treat your community and loved ones with deep warmth, ensuring that no one is left behind or forgotten.
The monarch represents transformation and a journey that continues across generations. This is especially personal because it connects back to how I first knew these girls, raising monarchs together during COVID. Rilyn’s mom also called Rilyn her butterfly, so this became a very personal symbol. Rilyn’s mom painted that.
The three Sea Turtles (Rilyn her sister & mom) are symbolic of strength, protection, patience and finding your way home.
The Hermit Crab, resilience & growth. Rilyn had a hermit crab just like this. His name was Lucky Charm. He became very important in her understanding of life and death.
The cardinal below is a small symbol of the people we love who aren’t physically with us anymore, and a reminder that their presence can still be felt.
The tiki guardian stands for protection, ancestors, and strength — the idea that we are surrounded by people, both present and remembered, who help carry us. We call him Patiki, after my late husband Patrick, who also died of cancer.
The rainbow is a bridge between worlds.
I lost count of how many people volunteered to help bring Rilyn’s Corner to life. Three of Rilyn’s closest friends, Rilyn’s mom and sister, several of the other children’s moms, teachers, and friends all contributed in some way.






Standing in that hallway, what got me wasn’t the wall, the beach shack or the tiki hut. It was everyone who had shown up. Every single person came for their own reason, and they all came anyway.
That’s the thing that undoes me — how many people will gather to honor someone who’s gone.
I hadn’t seen a monarch at my house since those COVID days with Avery. Not one, in all those years.
The day I called my friend to ask if she’d help me with this, one flew past my garage while I was still on the phone with her.
I wrote about the way this all came about, the design and what it means to me here.










