Look Mom, I Can Fly: Notes from the Wide Skies of Grieving My Only Child

When Luna Jaffe’s only child, Hunter, died suddenly at the age of twenty-one, her world split open. In the aftermath, grief became both her ground and her sky—a terrain she could neither map nor escape. Out of the wreckage, she began to create: flower mandalas laid tenderly on Hunter’s grave, watercolors stained with sorrow and light, letters scrawled in the night, poems and prayers stitched into pages.

Look Mom, I Can Fly is the luminous record of that first year of grieving, told in words and images that shimmer with unbearable loss and startling beauty. Part memoir, part art book, part love letter to her child, this book is a companion for anyone walking through the wilderness of grief.

With fierce honesty and lyrical grace, Jaffe offers no easy consolations. Instead, she shares the raw textures of mourning—rage, tenderness, disbelief, wonder—and shows how creativity became both an anchor and a wing.

This is a book for mothers who have lost children, for those who grieve in silence, for communities learning to hold one another through the unholdable. It is a testament to love that endures beyond death, and to the wild resilience of the human spirit when tethered to beauty, memory, and devotion.