Why PHL was created

I was 15 years old the morning my father boarded the plane. It was a Sunday, and while he was in the air, my mother had my four young siblings and me out shopping for back-to-school clothes. Around mid-afternoon, we got the call: there had been an accident. The plane had gone down.

We raced home in silence, holding our breaths while waiting on more news. The next call came through — there was one survivor and one fatality.

My mom had to drive a state over to identify who was who. That left the five of us kids home alone for hours, our stomachs in knots.

When my mom returned late that night with my grandparents, we knew before she even said the words. Our father was gone. My uncle had survived but was in critical condition. My mother stood in the kitchen, tears in her eyes, trying to be strong for us. She told us that we needed to pray for my uncle, surrounding him with love and support so that he may live.

What struck me most that night wasn’t just the devastation of loss—it was the overwhelming burden that fell on my mothers shoulders. Instead of sitting with us, holding us, and grieving together, she had to pick up the phone and make call after call, notifying family and friends scattered across the country.

In the days that followed, she juggled funeral arrangements, life insurance policies, bank accounts, along with the day-to-day responsibilities of raising five children. Every moment seemed consumed by logistical tasks, leaving little room for her to process her own grief or help us navigate ours.

As a teenager, I didn’t fully understand the magnitude of what she was enduring. But as an adult, with a husband serving in the U.S. Navy, I see it clearly. Should something happen to him, I’d be thrust into a similar whirlwind of responsibility. Over the years, I’ve watched other Navy families lose loved ones, and the sheer weight of those immediate tasks after a loss is staggering. The grief enduring.

Friends and family want to help, but they often don’t know how. Grieving spouses, parents, children, siblings rarely have the clarity to articulate what they need. Everyone feels lost, trying to balance the demands of paperwork, funeral arrangements, and rebuilding life while coping with overwhelming grief.

That’s why Post House Legacy was created.

Post House was born out of a desire to lift the burden for families navigating grief. Losing someone significant is overwhelming, and the added pressure of managing endless logistical tasks can feel impossible when grief is all-consuming.

By providing guidance, tools, and support, PHL helps families navigate the practical side of loss—handling day-to-day responsibilities, accessing critical accounts, and understanding exactly what steps to take when so many questions linger. Additionally, we hope to change the conversation around end-of-life planning from a burdensome task to a great act of care for yourself and your loved ones. We offer you the tools to forward plan and discuss your wishes with loved ones ahead of time so that your life can be honored appropriately.

We empower family and friends to support one another in meaningful, practical ways so that no one has to face these tasks alone.