The GoFundMe Is Not a Life Insurance Policy


I shared it without thinking twice. A GFM for my former father-in- law, and then, a friend of a friend. A family I didn’t know personally but recognized in the way you recognize anyone who looks like people you love. The photo was from a better day — a birthday, maybe, or a holiday. Everyone smiling. No one knowing what was coming.
I hit share. I donated what I could. I scrolled on.
And then I sat with it.
Because here’s the thing nobody says out loud when those posts go around:
A GoFundMe is not a plan. It’s what happens when there wasn’t one.
I’ve been in this industry long enough to know what the aftermath looks like. Not the GoFundMe stage — the stage after that. When the campaign closes. When the casseroles stop coming. When the world moves on and that family is still sitting inside a life that financially collapsed overnight.
The mortgage didn’t pause for grief.
The utility companies didn’t send condolences.
The kids still needed things.
And the person who held it all together was gone.
That’s the part that doesn’t make it into the fundraiser description. The slow, grinding weight of trying to rebuild a life when the foundation was pulled out from under you — with no parachute, no cushion, nothing but the kindness of strangers and a Donate button.
I’m not here to scare you. I’m here because I’ve had the hard conversations — the ones that happen after it’s too late to do anything about it — and I would rather have an uncomfortable conversation with you now than a heartbreaking one later.
This is what I do. Not because it’s a job, but because it matters in a way that is genuinely hard to explain until you’ve watched a family try to survive without it.
There is a solution for where you are right now — whatever your budget, whatever your stage of life:
Mortgage Protection — so your family keeps the roof over their heads, no matter what happens to you.
Final Expense Coverage — so the people grieving you aren’t also drowning in bills they didn’t see coming.
Living Benefits — so a diagnosis doesn’t also become a financial crisis while you’re still here fighting.
You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to start.
If you’re in Texas, I’d love to sit down with you and find something that actually fits your life and your budget — no pressure, no jargon, just an honest conversation.
If you’re outside of Texas, I have trusted colleagues across the country and I will personally make sure you’re connected to someone who will take care of you.
Your family deserves more than a Donate button.
Let’s build something that holds.
Drop a comment or send me a message. Let’s talk

Julie.kilcrease.insurance@gmail.com

Spring Cleaning….House and Mind

Spring Cleaning Your Mind (And Your Stuff)


Spring equinox is here, and yes—it’s that magical time when the world starts fresh, the days get longer, and everything feels like it could use a good tidy. But here’s the thing: spring cleaning isn’t just for closets. It’s for your mind, your energy, your thoughts… and yes, even your memories.
I know, I know. Some of you are already feeling that panic: “Wait, if I let go of that hoodie, that memory disappears!” To my neurospicy friends—you KNOW exactly what I mean. The texture, the smell, the little stitch that makes you remember… it’s sticky. It feels like letting go of the thing is letting go of the story.
But here’s the truth: it’s not real. Memories live in your brain, your heart, and your soul—they don’t live in the item itself. You can absolutely keep the memory without keeping the clutter. That hoodie? The shoes? The ticket stub? They’re props. You’re the star of the story, not the accessory.
Why Letting Go Feels Hard
Objects, habits, even old thoughts—they cling. We hold onto them because they’re familiar, because they make us feel safe, or because our brain just really likes a good story. But here’s the catch: cluttered spaces, whether physical or mental, make it harder to breathe, to think, to be fully present.
Your Step-by-Step Mental Spring Cleaning
Pick a zone – Closet? Phone? Thoughts that keep looping? Start somewhere small.
Ask yourself – Does this serve me? Or am I holding it out of habit, guilt, or fear?
Let it go – Donate, recycle, delete, journal about it, take a picture… whatever makes it safe to release.
Celebrate the space – Notice how your energy shifts when there’s breathing room.
Reclaim & Renew
Letting go isn’t losing—it’s reclaiming. It’s saying, “I honor my memories, and I honor myself by making space for joy, growth, and intention.” That’s reclamation. That’s renewal. That’s you stepping into a season where you aren’t weighed down by what no longer serves you.
So here’s your challenge for the equinox: pick one thing today—a hoodie, a thought, a habit—and let it go. Notice the difference it makes when you reclaim that space for yourself.
Because spring isn’t just about cleaning the house—it’s about cleaning your mind, your heart, and your life. And yes… you can absolutely keep the memories without keeping the clutter.

Navigating Life’s Uncharted Waters

A journey through grief

Life has a way of teaching us profound lessons, often through experiences we never anticipated. As a mom who has navigated the tumultuous waters of grief after losing both parents, my beloved Uncle John, former in-laws, and numerous close friends, I’ve come to understand that while the journey is deeply personal, it is also one that connects us to each other in ways we might not always recognize. Today, I want to share my story, not as a means of seeking sympathy, but to offer a beacon of hope and understanding for those who might be walking a similar path. And grief is a very personal journey and no two paths are the same, please know you are not alone.

The Weight of Loss

Losing my parents was like losing the anchors that held my world steady. They were my guiding stars, my sources of unwavering support, and the keepers of family traditions. Their absence created a void that felt insurmountable. I remember the days following their passing as a blur of grief and disbelief, a cacophony of emotions that seemed too vast for words. And still I don’t feel like words can accurately describe the first few months after we lost my Daddy and Mom.

While still grieving my Uncle John and parents who were so much a part of our daily lives; we also experienced the loss of close friends, and my former in-laws. It all seemed too much, like another wave crashing against my already fragile heart. Each person’s departure brought with it its own kind of pain—a different shade of grief, yet part of a larger tapestry of loss. These were people who had walked with me through various chapters of my life, sharing laughter, tears, and countless memories. Their absence was a reminder of the impermanence of life and the unpredictability of our journeys.

Finding Strength in Vulnerability

Grief is often portrayed as a linear process, but in reality, it’s more like a swirling dance with no clear steps. At first, I sought to shield myself from the raw pain, to put on a brave face for my children and keep life as normal as possible. But eventually, I realized that embracing my vulnerability was not a sign of weakness but a source of strength. Allowing myself to grieve openly meant accepting that my feelings were valid and that it was okay to not have all the answers.

Being honest with my children about our losses was one of the hardest yet most liberating things I did. We talked about their grandparents, uncles, and my friends in ways that honored their memories while allowing us to express our sadness. It became a shared experience, one that, while painful, also brought us closer. Through these conversations, I learned that grief does not need to be a solitary journey; it can be something that unites us.

Creating New Traditions

One of the most healing things for me has been creating new traditions that honor those I’ve lost. It started with small gestures—lighting a candle in their memory on significant dates, creating bouquets for their graves, sharing stories about them during family gatherings, and visiting places that held special significance. Over time, these traditions have evolved into a way of keeping their spirit alive, blending their memory into our everyday lives. As I have one daughter planning a wedding, she will be certain to honor her grandparents and perhaps even her honorary aunt Audra in her upcoming wedding ceremony. This is how we move on. We are forever altered by the loss, but we keep the memories in our hearts, so our loved ones are ever present.

As a family, we began to find joy in creating new memories while still cherishing the old ones. We celebrated our milestones with an appreciation for the past and a renewed hope for the future. One daughter’s graduation was especially poignant, her aunt brought a rose for each grandparent who was missing. It was a way of acknowledging that while the pain of loss is profound, it does not have to overshadow the beauty of living. We celebrated and had a party and there were smiles and laughter and it was good. 

Embracing the Journey Forward

Grief is a lifelong companion, but it doesn’t have to define us. It’s a part of my story, but it’s not the whole story. I’ve learned that healing doesn’t mean forgetting, but rather finding a new way to live with the love and memories of those who have passed. It means allowing myself to experience joy again and to continue moving forward with a heart that has been forever touched by those who are no longer here.

 I recently watched the episode of NCIS where “Ducky” passed away, and although he was old and it was his time, the loss still hurt. Director Vance shared a piece of wisdom with the team that Dr. Mallard had shared with Vance upon his wife’s death, We each die two deaths, one where our body gives out and the other when our stories stop being shared. Profound words to share with those experiencing loss. Don’t stop sharing the stories. It keeps them alive in our memories and even though their physical presence is gone, they do not have to be. 

In my journey, I’ve found solace in connecting with others who have experienced similar losses. It’s through these shared experiences that we find understanding and support. We each have our own paths, but the connections we forge with others who have walked similar roads can be profoundly comforting.

A Message of Hope

If you are navigating the challenging waters of grief, know that you are not alone. Your feelings are valid, and your journey is uniquely yours. Embrace the love and memories of those you’ve lost while allowing yourself the grace to live and find joy again. Grief may change you, but it doesn’t have to diminish your capacity to love and find happiness.

In the end, life’s greatest gift is our ability to love deeply and to be loved in return. Even in the face of loss, the bonds we create and the memories we cherish become a source of strength. As a mom who has felt the weight of grief, I hold onto this truth: that the love we share with those who have left us continues to guide and uplift us through every step of our journey.

In loving memory of so many I have lost over the years, but especially:

Sandi Rene Marbut July 1993

Ila Kilcrease July 1987

John Henry Eaves June 2019

Sharena Kay Lovett May 2020

Rufus Oran Kilcrease October 2020

Emeline Marie Kilcrease November 2020

Deborah Kay Nelson April 2023

Garry Paul Roeber May 2023

Audra Marie Talley March 2024

Marcey Elaine Riley May 2024