Life doesn’t wait for perfection; it asks us to carry love and loss together. In the space between what we lose and gain, we discover that love can endure, transform, and bloom again, even after the most profound heartbreak. Visa and Serign crossed paths in the summer of 2001 while working at the student recreation center at Washington State University.
Serign was stationed downstairs in the weight room when she noticed her coming down the stairs with a radiant smile that seemed to light up the whole place. They started a conversation easily, and both of us had unusual names that made introductions almost effortless, but they were seeing other people then. It was just a friendly exchange, nothing more.
It wasn’t until a couple of years later that our lives truly began to intertwine. They were part of the same group of friends, always ending up at the same gatherings, and Serign was drawn to her magnetic energy.
Everyone loved being around her; she made ordinary nights feel special. Serign had never forgotten one party where someone asked how long they had been dating. Without even looking at each other, they both looked out, “Oh, we’re not dating,” Which sparked laughter from everyone. To them, it was apparent that what they had was more than friendship.
The early years of their friendship were joyful and carefree, even though Serign was in medical school. They spent weekends with friends, holidays with her big Lao family, and fall Saturdays cheering for their cougars. Being the youngest of eight siblings, nieces and nephews surrounded her, and it wasn’t long before they started calling Sarign “Uncle.” Everywhere they went, her friends and family embraced him. People had their ways of describing her; some joked about wanting to carry her in their pocket to keep her close, while others saw her as the life of the party.
In July 2008, they married in a way that perfectly represented their union of cultures and families. That day started with a traditional Lao wedding with conventional outfits and customs.
Serign was caught off guard when asked to help collect meat for the ceremony, only to discover that the cow hadn’t been chosen yet. They handed him a gun and told him to pick one from the field. Serign declined, but when he told her later, Visa’s look was unforgettable. Later that day, they had an American ceremony. Their family and friends stayed through both, celebrating with them from start to finish. It was the happiest day of Serign’s life.
Two years later, they welcomed their first son, and two years after that, their second. Their boys were growing, Serign had to finish residency, and they had been married nearly six years. But everything changed on March 4, 2014.
That morning, Visa texted Serign asking him if he wanted coffee and then left him a voicemail saying she wasn’t feeling well. He thought he would head home early to help her with the kids, but he felt sinking when he couldn’t reach her after multiple calls. A neighbor checked in and soon called him back with words he would never forget: “We need to call 911, and you need to come home.”
When he arrived, the medics were already there and working on her. She looked pale but was still awake as they rushed her out. Serign told her that he loved her, not knowing it would be the last time he had to see her conscious. On the way to the hospital, her heart gave out, but the team tried again and again to bring her back. By evening, they couldn’t do any more. She was gone.
That night, he held his boys close, feeling emptier than he thought possible. He had no idea how to move forward. The grief was unbearable. In the beginning, he tried to numb the pain in unhealthy ways, clinging only to the concept of what he had lost. But slowly, with the support of family, friends, and therapy, he began to understand that he wasn’t alone in this kind of suffering. Accepting that others had walked similar paths helped him heal.
Over time, he chose growth. Losing his Visa gave him a deeper awareness of life and relationships, which he had to carry into every interaction with his family, friends, patients, and especially with his children. Life was different for Serign, but still beautiful. He married again, and his wife, Michelle, had a blended family. Together, they raised her two children, his two boys, and a little one on the way. That wasn’t easy for him; blended families bring challenges, but they had created a new life out of broken pieces.
When they first met with each other, they were both grieving in their own ways, she from divorce and Serign from death. At first, he buried his pain in the new relationship, but eventually, he had to face it. Even the struggles reminded him that life was still worth living, no matter how hard.
