When Grief Doesn't Follow a Schedule: Finding Hope, Memories, and Faith After Losing a Child

Eight weeks after Benjamin Vo was called home, his family and community turn to faith, fond memories, and heavenly friendship to navigate unpredictable waves of sorrow.
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When Grief Doesn't Follow a Schedule: Finding Hope, Memories, and Faith After Losing a Child · Avonetics

🎧 Podcast episode
Coming soon — Gabriel and Thérèse are taking this one into the studio.

Grief is rarely a straight line. Eight weeks after fifteen-year-old Benjamin Vo was called home to the Father after a battle with leukemia, his family and community continue to navigate days where sorrow feels light and days where missing him carries a crushing weight. In Catholic tradition and everyday human experience alike, learning to live with loss is not about following a strict schedule—it is about holding fast to love, faith, and cherished memories. In a recent Mass prayed in Benjamin's memory, the readings from Ezekiel and the Gospel of Matthew offered deep spiritual consolation. Just as the prophet Ezekiel was asked to consume a scroll covered in words of sorrow—only for it to taste as sweet as honey—believers are reminded that God's presence brings sweetness even amidst human pain. In the Gospel, Jesus places a child in the center of His disciples, teaching that the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who carry pure, trusting, and humble hearts. That pure, childlike wonder was the hallmark of Ben's fifteen years. His family remembers his imaginative spirit and gentle giggles whenever he shared creative ideas, including his dream of starting 'con chim airlines.' Whether he was posing in his royal blue hoodie with a cup of chocolate ice cream under evening street lamps, laughing with his younger brother in front of a giant blue Genie, or standing proudly in lime green Crocs holding a model train engine at the hobby store, Ben lived with an unburdened joy that touched everyone around him. His father recalled the quiet triumphs of Ben's life, remembering the day a teacher called to share that Ben was being promoted out of his IEP program because he was such a sweet, respectful boy who had overcome his speech delay. Photos from summer trips capture him leaning over vintage gelato carts in a black Adidas cap, crouching in the sand to build miniature pools by the ocean pier, or celebrating his 15th birthday wrapped in a cozy green hoodie beside chocolate cupcakes with flickering candles. For those left behind, navigating life without a beloved child or brother brings intense spiritual questions. One commenter noted that even the Psalmist David wept and questioned if God was near, arguing that expressing raw sorrow is not a sign of weak faith. Another argued that carrying deep sadness simply reflects how profoundly someone was loved. In their grief, Ben's family finds comfort in a unique heavenly bond: his friendship with Saint Carlo Acutis. Both boys were faithful teenagers of the digital age who loved computers, built creative online projects, and were called home by leukemia at the age of fifteen. His family believes these two young souls walk together now in the Father's light, offering a beacon of hope for young people and grieving families everywhere. As prayers continue to pour in—including heartfelt petitions for health, strength for his brother, and healing for relatives—the community surrounding Ben's family reminds us that grief has no correct timeline. Life is not always fair, but in the safety of God's divine promise, every soul is remembered and held securely. Our podcast hosts unpack this story, exploring how faith and gentle memories sustain us through the hardest days.

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