21 September will always be our day. 

The day we met, and our wedding anniversary. 

We didn’t do the traditional church wedding. 

We did something far more *us*. 

We travelled Route 66, popped in to Vegas, stood side by side, and got married by Elvis — 

and it was perfect. 

It was fun and chaotic and full of laughter. 

There was music, joy, nerves, and that feeling that the whole world had paused just for us. 

We laughed through the vows and danced through the nerves, 

and nothing about it was formal… but *everything* about it was real.

That day still lives in me — bright, loud, full of love. 

Even now, years later, I can close my eyes and see it all. 

Mark’s smile. The glint in his eyes. 

The way he held my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

—

How Love Lives On

Mark isn’t here to celebrate with me anymore… 

but our love didn’t stop when his life did. 

It’s still here. Quiet. Fierce. Steady. 

Grief has changed shape over time, but love hasn’t. 

It still threads through my days — in the way I speak, the way I care, the way I keep going even when it’s hard. 

It’s in the kindness I try to give out into the world. 

It’s in the soft moments when I talk about him and smile instead of cry. 

It’s in the work we do with the Foundation, building something that makes the world a little gentler — all because of Mark.

The Mark Hewitson Foundation exists because he lived. 

Because loving him changed me forever. 

Because the best way I know to honour him is to keep helping others in his name.

—

Choosing Love Again

Grief can make you want to close off your heart. 

Loving someone so deeply and losing them so suddenly leaves scars you can’t see — and there were times I didn’t think I’d survive it. 

But love still finds its way in. 

Through memories. 

Through the people who show up and stay. 

Through the small moments of joy that slowly return, even when you’re sure they won’t. 

And every year, on our anniversary, I remember not just what I lost — 

but what I was lucky enough to have. 

—

So on our day, I’ll remember us. 

With tears, with love, with pride — and with a smile. 

Because what we had was rare, and real, and joyful. 

Happy Anniversary, Mark. 

You are still everything. 

And you always will be. Dx