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Sina's Family
My late husband, Chief Warrant Officer 2 Eric D. Compton, and I met in 2003—just days before he left for United States Marine Corps Boot Camp. We married in April 2005, shortly before his second deployment to Iraq. Over the course of his 16 years of active duty, we were blessed with four beautiful children: Jonathan (2005), Brandon (2007), Aidan (2011), and our daughter Sarah (2013).
Due to Eric’s many deployments and training assignments, I often found myself raising our children on my own. Still, nothing could have prepared me for the day I became a widow to four grieving children—each mourning the loss of their father—when Eric lost his battle with PTSD on July 27, 2019.
The first few years following his passing were a blur. Grief isn’t just painful—it’s utterly exhausting, physically, emotionally, and mentally. By Christmas 2021, I was depleted. I had nothing left to give—to my children or to myself. I knew it was time to focus on healing, for all of us.
Thankfully, I’ve been surrounded by an incredible support system. Family, friends, neighbors, and the many organizations that serve Gold Star Families have been a lifeline. The workshops and therapy-focused resources offered by these organizations have played a vital role in helping us navigate our grief. But I realized I needed something more—something beyond counseling and grief support.
I needed rest.
Not just physical rest, but the kind of deep, soul-level peace that comes from stepping away, even briefly, from the weight of loss and responsibility. I needed a pause from being a single mom to four grieving children—from the emotional rollercoaster we all felt trapped on.
So I started taking short trips with my closest support system—sometimes with my children, sometimes without. On those trips, through laughter, quiet moments, and shared tears, I found a renewed sense of purpose. I began to feel not just alive, but hopeful. I started to appreciate life again—even the rainy days.
Being a Gold Star Family is not something anyone chooses. But the love and support we’ve received is what empowers us to face each difficult day with resilience and grace.
Eric was a hero. And through the generosity of others, his memory lives on—not just in our hearts, but in the compassionate acts extended to our children.
Now, we want to extend that same love to others.
Due to Eric’s many deployments and training assignments, I often found myself raising our children on my own. Still, nothing could have prepared me for the day I became a widow to four grieving children—each mourning the loss of their father—when Eric lost his battle with PTSD on July 27, 2019.
The first few years following his passing were a blur. Grief isn’t just painful—it’s utterly exhausting, physically, emotionally, and mentally. By Christmas 2021, I was depleted. I had nothing left to give—to my children or to myself. I knew it was time to focus on healing, for all of us.
Thankfully, I’ve been surrounded by an incredible support system. Family, friends, neighbors, and the many organizations that serve Gold Star Families have been a lifeline. The workshops and therapy-focused resources offered by these organizations have played a vital role in helping us navigate our grief. But I realized I needed something more—something beyond counseling and grief support.
Not just physical rest, but the kind of deep, soul-level peace that comes from stepping away, even briefly, from the weight of loss and responsibility. I needed a pause from being a single mom to four grieving children—from the emotional rollercoaster we all felt trapped on.
So I started taking short trips with my closest support system—sometimes with my children, sometimes without. On those trips, through laughter, quiet moments, and shared tears, I found a renewed sense of purpose. I began to feel not just alive, but hopeful. I started to appreciate life again—even the rainy days.
Being a Gold Star Family is not something anyone chooses. But the love and support we’ve received is what empowers us to face each difficult day with resilience and grace.
Eric was a hero. And through the generosity of others, his memory lives on—not just in our hearts, but in the compassionate acts extended to our children.
Now, we want to extend that same love to others.
