three little birds
The story behind the logo and why Bob Marley's Three Little Birds song… other versions as well… will always be OUR song.
AJ wanted HOPE, a VACATION, and the SUN, and a BEER.
Two months prior to AJ’s passing (December 2024), we were in the thick of his cancer. We had been there before, and with AJ’s determination and strength, he pulled through. We did witness miracles on this journey for sure. This time seemed more desperate, but we always had hope, and AJ was a warrior. We were working with insurance, our oncologist, and docs at the City of Hope clinic in CA to get AJ in for an evaluation and consideration for any clinical trial that could possibly help our boy. I had a spreadsheet full of places we were trying to get to for clinical trials. Every place required an IN PERSON evaluation, and we were making it happen. California was first on the list.
In the beginning of January 2025, we finally had all arrangements made. He was scheduled for January 15th. AJ was desperate for help with his AML but also wanted to get to the sunshine and warmth. He wanted to feel like he was on a vacation. He told me, “I just think I’d feel so much better in the warmth and the sun…” Then he added, half serious and fully sincere, "I mean, it's the city of HOPE; I need to get there!” I agreed with my whole heart and assured him we were scheduled and all set, and we could drive to the beach while there!
Unfortunately, AJ was admitted for a trio of infections on January 10th, NOT cancer… infections. AJ’s January 9th PET scan shocked his doctors, and the spots that lit up the previous month were ALL no longer there. His oncology team was astonished at how well the last round of treatment worked (note: our integrative efforts were all in play at home as well)… They couldn’t see cancer. However, if it wasn’t cancer, it was another complication, and this time we were up against multiple infections, so we couldn’t travel. We couldn’t get him to his City of Hope appointment. He remained admitted until January 23rd.
AJ didn’t need a big extravagant trip. He just needed the kind of day where his shoulders could finally drop even for a moment in between appointments. He needed one ordinary, human day where his body could unclench. Where the fear could step back. Where his nervous system could breathe. He wanted to soak in the sun while drinking a beer.
His body already knew what his soul was asking for: peace.
The week before he began his 2-day hike to heaven, AJ was channeling those same beach-and-beer vibes hard. He was playing Bob Marley like he was trying to climb out of the cancer noise and transport himself into something lighter, something free. Lauren had just run to the store per AJ’s request and came back with Mamba chews. The five of us were together — me, Tyler, AJ, Lauren, and Riley and our pup Jovie too — eating candy and listening to Marley like it was normal life for a minute.
Then he played “Three Little Birds” and began boppin’ his head to the beat; he was rebelling against his condition in the smallest way he could… because that was our AJ.
Lauren asked if it was his favorite song.
He said, “Well… it’s a good one for sitting on the beach drinking a beer.”
And that moment… right in the middle of the most brutal part of our lives… became a core memory. Because I felt it. It wasn’t just random music. He chose it. He put it on. Like he was placing something gentle into the room on purpose. Like his soul was speaking the lyrics straight through the speakers: Don’t worry about a thing cuz every little thing gonna be alright.
At the time, I believed with every cell in my body that it was a sign, proof that AJ was going to get better… he always did. I wanted it to mean that. I needed it to mean that.
A few days later, his friends were over watching a Minnesota Wild game with him, and AJ played “Three Little Birds” again! Like he was sending the same message out wider, not just to us but to his buddies he loved so deeply. It was the last song he ever played. His music app is still frozen in time, with “Three Little Birds” loaded and sitting on the bottom bar right where he left off… like the world stopped mid-chorus.
When AJ was unconscious and traveling to God, that chorus was stuck in my head; they were the only words I could think and hear that weren’t panic. So I sang them to him. I hummed the melody into his ear. I was trying to be strong for him. Trying to tell him not to worry, that everything was going to be okay. I told him. “I’ve got you.” I was singing to him and desperately trying to believe the words myself.
It felt like a loop of love: first, his message to us, and then our message back to him.
That’s why the Three Little Birds matter.
They are AJ’s soul message made visible. A reminder that he is now at peace even though it’s NOT the way we wanted peace to arrive for him. A reminder that he doesn’t want us to worry, that he is alright. AND, it’s a hopeful prayer that all of us living without him can eventually feel alright.
So, we reach for the light, towards the warmth, towards the beach or the mountains, towards hope, and certainly towards that beer… all for our AJ.
We LOVE YOU!
PS - AJ, I got 3 little birds tattooed on my wrist in Breckenridge, CO. My first tattoo is for you… even though you didn’t have any. :) It has triple meaning… 1 - the story above. 2 - my three kids (my three little birds). 3 - my two sisters and I… the three of us together navigating this life.
xoxoxo - mom