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Edition November 2026 · Latest news and stories
Presented by Heather Killebrew · wldwd.com
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Latest News · Wildwood

Some days I still feel the weight of losing Dawne as sharply as I did in 2016. Grief did not disappear when I learned to keep going. It changed shape. In the silence, I b…

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Joey

Autumn 2026. The work jacket, the worn cap, and the tractor behind me capture how I imagine Wildwood Farms, but the farm itself is still a dream. I want to find the right land, plant native trees, and build a place where families can dedicate a tree to someone they love. I picture them returning through the seasons, watching a sapling grow into something lasting. Getting there will mean finding support, caring for the land, and doing the hard work long after the first planting. I do not want a tree farm just for the name or the photographs. I want a place that gives grief somewhere to go, turns remembrance into g…

Conceptual Wildwood Farms portrait of Joey wearing a weathered brown work jacket and a tan baseball cap embroidered with a tree emblem. A red agricultural tractor appears in the background under warm autumn light.
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Joey

Autumn 2026. This close-up reminds me that a dream is more than a nice picture. Wildwood is not a farm yet. It is a promise I am making to myself to keep looking for land, learning how to grow trees, and building a place where families can honor someone they miss. The trees are not planted, but the reason to plant them is already here.

Close-up portrait of Joey wearing a weathered brown field jacket over a dark plaid shirt, with short salt-and-pepper hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and a serious expression against a softly blurred green woodland background.
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Joey

Autumn 2026. I imagine this as the end of a long day at Wildwood, sitting on an old porch, looking out over trees that started as little more than hope. We have not found the land yet. But I know what I want to grow there: a place for families to remember, to heal, and to leave something good behind. The dream deserves the work.

Conceptual portrait of Joey seated in a rustic wooden rocking chair outside a timber farm building, wearing a plaid shirt, weathered brown work vest and dark pants, with a young tree nearby.
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Joey

Autumn 2026. In this imagined scene, I am standing beside the Wildwood Farms sign I hope to see for real one day. I want to build a place where families can plant trees for the people they love and return to watch those memories grow. We do not have the land yet, but the dream has a name, a purpose, and a future I am determined to work toward.

Conceptual portrait of Joey leaning against a wooden Wildwood Farms sign in an autumn countryside setting, wearing a brown field jacket. A rustic fence, trees, and farm building appear in the background.
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Joey

Autumn 2026. I look at these young trees and see more than seedlings. I see the Wildwood I hope to build, a place where families can plant something living in memory of someone they love. The land is still a dream, and there is work ahead, but every forest begins with a first tree. I intend to keep moving toward that day.

Joey kneeling outdoors beside a tray of young pine seedlings, wearing a weathered brown work vest over a denim shirt. Warm autumn sunlight illuminates the trees and surrounding landscape.
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Joey

Autumn 2026. Looking through these woods, I can see the Wildwood tree farm I hope to build. It starts with finding the right land and putting the first saplings in the ground. Someday, I want families to plant a tree in memory of someone they love and return to watch it grow. For now, it's a dream that gives me something to work toward.

Joey in an olive-brown field jacket over a dark shirt, looking thoughtfully into the distance among trees with golden autumn foliage.
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Joey

Autumn 2026. Sitting beside this tree, I think about what it takes to build something that lasts. The Wildwood tree farm is still a dream, but I can see it clearly: open land, young trees, and families planting in honor of people they never want forgotten. One day I hope this dream gives someone a place to remember, and a reason to come back.

Joey leaning against a mature tree in autumn, wearing an olive-brown field jacket over a dark shirt. Warm sunlight filters through golden foliage in the background.
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Joey

Autumn 2026. The Wildwood Farms name is on my cap, but the land is still a dream. I picture rows of trees, families planting in memory of someone they love, and a place that keeps growing long after we're gone. I don't know every step it will take to get there, but I know why I want to begin.

Joey wearing a weathered Wildwood Farms baseball cap and a dark work jacket with a fleece collar over a blue denim shirt. A blurred red tractor appears in the background.
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Joey

Autumn 2026. I picture Wildwood as more than a tree farm. A place where people can plant a tree for someone they love, watch it grow, and leave something living for the next generation. The land is still a dream, but the purpose behind it is real. I am not giving up on it.

Joey standing beside a mature tree in autumn 2026, wearing a weathered brown jacket over a red and blue plaid shirt. Golden autumn foliage fills the background.
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Dawne

Ten years since I lost Dawne. This reimagined sunset brings us together again, even if only in a picture. I miss her smile, the way we held each other, and the life we shared. A decade has passed, but some love never fades. She will always be part of who I am.

Reimagined vintage Polaroid-style portrait of Dawne and Joey embracing and smiling at the beach during a warm sunset, with the ocean and evening sky behind them.
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Dawne

Ten years since I lost Dawne. This reimagined picture of us hiding behind our coffee mugs makes me think of the laughter we shared over the smallest things. I miss those quiet, ordinary moments more than words can say. Life has moved forward, but my love for her remains.

Reimagined vintage Polaroid-style portrait of Dawne and Joey holding white coffee mugs close to their faces, with their eyes visible above the cups. Dawne wears a denim shirt, and Joey wears a black shirt.
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Dawne

Ten years since I lost Dawne. Nine reimagined moments of us, but the love behind them was real. The laughter, the little kisses, coffee together, the sunsets. I miss those ordinary moments most. A decade has passed, and she is still part of every chapter of my life.

A reimagined nine-frame vintage Polaroid collage of Dawne and Joey smiling, embracing, sharing coffee, and enjoying moments together by the beach and indoors.
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Dawne

Ten years since I lost Dawne. This reimagined moment of us sharing coffee reminds me of what I miss most. Her smile, the comfort of being close, and the simple joy of being together. Life has changed in ways I never imagined, but the love I carry for her has never faded.

Reimagined vintage Polaroid-style portrait of Joey and Dawne sitting close together, smiling and holding white coffee mugs in warm indoor light.
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Dawne

Ten years since I lost Dawne. This image is reimagined, but the love behind it is real. I remember her smile, the comfort of being close, and the ordinary moments that meant everything. A decade later, life keeps moving, and I keep carrying her with me.

Reimagined vintage Polaroid-style portrait of Joey and Dawne together, with Dawne resting her head against Joey and smiling in warm indoor light.
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Joey

August 2026. My Yellowstone spoof. No ranch, no cattle, just a cowboy hat, a leather jacket, and my best John Dutton stare. I may not own a thousand acres, but I can look like I have a few rules about the fence line.

Joey in an August 2026 Yellowstone-inspired cowboy portrait, wearing a black cowboy hat, brown leather jacket, and blue shirt.
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Joey

August 2026. In the hospital for my L4-L5 TLIF fusion surgery. Not how I imagined spending the summer, but this chapter reminded me to slow down, accept help, and take recovery one day at a time. Every small step matters.

Joey sitting in a hospital bed wearing a patterned hospital gown in August 2026 during his L4-L5 TLIF spinal fusion surgery experience.
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Dawne

July 2016. Dawne and I, close together in the golden evening light. I look at this photo and remember how much those simple moments meant to me. Years later, her smile still brings me right back to a time I will always treasure.

Dawne and Joey leaning close together in warm evening sunlight in July 2016. Joey wears a black shirt and Dawne wears a white top.
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Dawne

July 2016. Dawne and I, holding each other close in the warm evening light. I still see the happiness in her smile and remember how lucky I felt in that moment. Years may pass, but this is the kind of memory I will always keep.

Dawne and Joey embracing in warm evening sunlight in July 2016, both wearing white shirts.
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Dawne

June 2016. I still love this photo of Dawne. Her smile, the warm light, and that look in her eyes bring me right back. Years have passed, but some moments never lose their meaning. I am grateful this one was captured.

Dawne smiling warmly in June 2016, resting her cheek on her hand, wearing a white blouse and hoop earrings.
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jrm

I have spent a lot of time building this application, but somewhere along the way I realized I was building more than software. I was building a place for stories. The technology matters. The database matters. The architecture matters. The pages have to load, the links have to work, the publishing system has to be reliable, and the application has to be able to grow. But none of those things are the reason I kept working on it. The reason is much simpler. I wanted a place where people, ideas, photographs, experiences, and stories could remain connected. That idea is becoming the foundation of the new Wildwood. Th…

LIFE editorial branding image featuring a red thread connecting the subject through a contemporary gallery, representing people, ideas, places and stories remaining connected.
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jrm

My stroke did not end when I left the hospital. That may be one of the hardest things to explain about surviving one. There is the emergency itself, and then there is everything that comes afterward—the work of figuring out what changed, what may improve, what still needs to be retrained, and what may simply become part of your new normal. I still live with lasting effects. There is weakness and stiffness on my left side. My left leg does not always move as naturally as it once did, and I have had to consciously retrain it to walk with a more normal gait. Something I spent most of my life doing without thinking c…

Close portrait in a black knit sweater during a long period of stroke recovery. Portrait in a vintage Coca-Cola shirt reflecting continued recovery and adaptation after a stroke. Portrait in a black leather jacket representing resilience during the continuing journey after a stroke.
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Joey

On August 4, 2026, I had a TLIF spinal fusion at L4-L5. TLIF stands for Transforaminal Lumbar Interbody Fusion. In simple terms, the procedure was performed to stabilize the L4-L5 level of my lower spine. The surgery involves placing an interbody cage and bone graft between the vertebrae, along with screws and rods that provide stability while the bones have time to fuse. Reading about spinal fusion is one thing. Going through it yourself is something entirely different. Surgery becomes a very real dividing line between what life looked like before the operation and what comes afterward. I am still moving through…

Close-up portrait of Joey wearing a black turtleneck against a dark background, looking directly into the camera with his hands clasped in front of him.
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jrm

I wanted to share this graphic because it gives a clear look at what happens during a TLIF at L4-L5. TLIF stands for Transforaminal Lumbar Interbody Fusion. The procedure is designed to stabilize the segment between the L4 and L5 vertebrae while also creating more room for compressed nerves. The first view shows the lower lumbar spine from the side and highlights a degenerative, collapsed L4-L5 disc space. Changes at this level can contribute to instability, nerve compression, back pain, and pain that travels into the leg. The second view shows the fusion construct from the back. Pedicle screws are placed into L4…

Medical illustration explaining TLIF L4-L5 spinal fusion with a sagittal lumbar spine view, posterior fusion construct with pedicle screws, rods, interbody cage and bone graft, and an axial view showing the transforaminal approach and nearby L4 and L5 nerve roots.
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Black Tie

I have joked more than once that I outkicked my coverage with Dawne, and this photograph makes the case better than I ever could. We were dressed for a formal evening, standing beneath the warm light of crystal chandeliers, and somehow she still managed to make everything around her look secondary. Dawne has that kind of presence. She can walk into an elegant room without needing the room to announce her. I am standing beside her in a black suit trying to look like I belong there, while she looks completely at ease. That contrast makes me smile because it says something familiar about us. I have always felt fortu…

Dawne and Joey dressed for a formal evening, standing close together beneath warm crystal chandeliers. Dawne wears an elegant beaded evening dress while Joey wears a black suit and tie.
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