dave2008
Legend
I don't know that this is the correct place to post this, if there is such a thing, but I am not really connected to social media other than EnWorld (no facebook, twitter, instegram, etc) and I need a release as part of my grieving process. My daughter, 20, died yesterday and it is impossible for me to understand her/my loss at the moment. I taught her (and her brother) to play D&D (4e) when she was 6 years old. I was their (and their friends ) DM for the next 5+ years until they branched out on their own. Teaching my children to play D&D and spending that time with them was one of the joys of my life. I miss my Yuan-ti Warlock (homebrewed race), her campaign ended way too early.
Sorry to be a downer at this time of year. I was on a self imposed soft-ban from until 2024, but that will likely extend indefinitely as we deal with our tragedy.
"Consitium" the Yuan-ti Warlock (fighter hybrid). The last sheet I have indicates level 8, but we made it to lvl 11 before we moved to 5e for a bit and then my children and their friends started running their own campaigns. The mini on the left was her character for the 1st 10 levels. At 11th level she gained the ability to transform in a Large Yuan-ti (on the right) for a period of time. I never got to paint the mini before I stopped DMing for them. I think I will find some time to paint it soon.
Sorry to be a downer at this time of year. I was on a self imposed soft-ban from until 2024, but that will likely extend indefinitely as we deal with our tragedy.
Aurora Juhl 4.5.2003-12.27.2023
Aurora. Aurora. Aurora. We love you so. You filled our life with your wit, your intelligence, your compassion, and your sarcasm.
In the company of animals, you softened and felt at ease. All cats were your friends and you took the most restless pups on walks around town.
You loved pretty things and had a keen photographer’s eye, composing on the fly, astonishingly talented. You believed in what was fair, what was right. You never suffered fools.
You loved crepes and lattes. Salt and vinegar chips. Trips to Rocket Fizz and Windchimes and agedashi tofu at Akai Hana. Rides down 315 to chase away your troubled mind.
You loved your friends. The boys. The abandoned buildings. The water towers to climb. The trans family you built with Ikea sharks and nights at Slammers. You lifted others up even when you were the one who needing to be lifted.
You reminisced about summers at the Bay—your favorite vacation spot. We took you to museums, Chicago, Washington, D.C., Martha’s Vineyard, the California coast. We were together at the French Laundry and bonded as a team when the car was robbed. I wanted to take you to Paris. To Hawaii. To marvel at the Aurora Borealis with you in the snow.
You wanted a life. Your math degree. A girlfriend. A cat. A quiet apartment. A future we all wanted to share with you. We were building a future together. Our family. Rain. Dave. Me. We are lost without you.
You were my girl. You felt like my body. I would look for you and realize I was holding you. You made me laugh and charmed me like no other. You knew me and chose to love me with all of my flaws.
Dave believed in you with his whole heart. Rock monster costumes and paper mache Godzilla. Late night back rubs. Coaching you on the soccer field. DMing. He misses his Yuan-ti Warlock; her campaign ended way too early. He moved to Seattle. He worked from home. He worked so hard to preserve your normal at any cost.
You told me once you wished you were twins with Rain. You defended Rain so fiercely if we ever tried to admonish him. You had imagination games, sword fights, D&D, and Beyblades (you never forgave me for giving those away).
You scored goals and went to Nationals and the Arnold classic. You fought on the mat with the big kids and sometimes won. You won math competitions, taught lego camp when you were only 11, worked as an MSE intern at OSU before you graduated from high school. Valedictorian.
I only know half your story and my words are not enough to capture your blazing fire, your pounding heart, your beauty, your fierceness.
You were loved. In your darkest hours, I hope you felt that love of your family—chosen and born. You died on the cusp of adulthood. I think in a sense of hope and lightness. A brief relapse. A mistake that cost too much. I love the person you were and was eager to witness the woman you were becoming. My girl. My girl. My girl.
Aurora. Aurora. Aurora. We love you so. You filled our life with your wit, your intelligence, your compassion, and your sarcasm.
In the company of animals, you softened and felt at ease. All cats were your friends and you took the most restless pups on walks around town.
You loved pretty things and had a keen photographer’s eye, composing on the fly, astonishingly talented. You believed in what was fair, what was right. You never suffered fools.
You loved crepes and lattes. Salt and vinegar chips. Trips to Rocket Fizz and Windchimes and agedashi tofu at Akai Hana. Rides down 315 to chase away your troubled mind.
You loved your friends. The boys. The abandoned buildings. The water towers to climb. The trans family you built with Ikea sharks and nights at Slammers. You lifted others up even when you were the one who needing to be lifted.
You reminisced about summers at the Bay—your favorite vacation spot. We took you to museums, Chicago, Washington, D.C., Martha’s Vineyard, the California coast. We were together at the French Laundry and bonded as a team when the car was robbed. I wanted to take you to Paris. To Hawaii. To marvel at the Aurora Borealis with you in the snow.
You wanted a life. Your math degree. A girlfriend. A cat. A quiet apartment. A future we all wanted to share with you. We were building a future together. Our family. Rain. Dave. Me. We are lost without you.
You were my girl. You felt like my body. I would look for you and realize I was holding you. You made me laugh and charmed me like no other. You knew me and chose to love me with all of my flaws.
Dave believed in you with his whole heart. Rock monster costumes and paper mache Godzilla. Late night back rubs. Coaching you on the soccer field. DMing. He misses his Yuan-ti Warlock; her campaign ended way too early. He moved to Seattle. He worked from home. He worked so hard to preserve your normal at any cost.
You told me once you wished you were twins with Rain. You defended Rain so fiercely if we ever tried to admonish him. You had imagination games, sword fights, D&D, and Beyblades (you never forgave me for giving those away).
You scored goals and went to Nationals and the Arnold classic. You fought on the mat with the big kids and sometimes won. You won math competitions, taught lego camp when you were only 11, worked as an MSE intern at OSU before you graduated from high school. Valedictorian.
I only know half your story and my words are not enough to capture your blazing fire, your pounding heart, your beauty, your fierceness.
You were loved. In your darkest hours, I hope you felt that love of your family—chosen and born. You died on the cusp of adulthood. I think in a sense of hope and lightness. A brief relapse. A mistake that cost too much. I love the person you were and was eager to witness the woman you were becoming. My girl. My girl. My girl.
"Consitium" the Yuan-ti Warlock (fighter hybrid). The last sheet I have indicates level 8, but we made it to lvl 11 before we moved to 5e for a bit and then my children and their friends started running their own campaigns. The mini on the left was her character for the 1st 10 levels. At 11th level she gained the ability to transform in a Large Yuan-ti (on the right) for a period of time. I never got to paint the mini before I stopped DMing for them. I think I will find some time to paint it soon.
Last edited:
