Webflow

Dear sweet, beautiful, wonderful Mariah,

How lucky are we to love you? To be loved by you? What karmic patron saint of goodness, friendship, and connectedness did we charm to have this tiny, radiant, celestial goddess (you) delivered straight to the kingdom of our hearts? I don’t even need to know, bruh — I’m a full, all-in, fuck yes, bitches. Mariah for prez of my world.

Happy 30th, sparkliest one! Thank you for being exactly who you are — someone who shows up before being asked. Generous to the bone with your time, heart, laughter, wisdom, air mattress, art supplies, snacks. Someone who buoys us up and cheers us on like an emotional floatie for the soul.

You’re a curator of care and giver of gifts that are portals to being known, to feeling seen, to old jokes and inside worlds, to tiny joys wrapped in tissue paper, and to the memory of being loved just right. You’re brilliant and insightful. Your brain is both blade and balm. You’re a safe space wrapped in joy, playfulness, adventure, laughter. I exhale in your presence. My nervous system just knows.

You have this instinct to celebrate people and time in a way that reminds us to slow down and savour this one, goddamn precious life. And even though I’ve yet to attend a Mariah gathering, it’s clear your creations are spells cast in detail and devotion. Stitched with care, where memories and connection bloom among handcrafted cocktails, handpicked details, and the unmistakable magic that happens when love is layered into every little bedazzled thing.

You’re radiant without trying. You don’t just light up a room, friend — you ignite that shit. Your love is big-hearted, tender, unwavering, and true. All-in, arms-wide, light-on-in-the-window love. Love that remembers birthdays, favourite snacks, and how someone likes their sammies sliced. Love that stays — not just in the room, but in the hard stuff. You love like it’s your calling. And it really is, Mariahface. I’m a better person, friend, and mom because of your love.

And even though I never met Brad, I’ve come to know him through your stories, your writing, your worldview, the way you hold and share your grief, and how you show up for your people. You honour his memory in every bit of goodness, humour, and care you pour into your circle. I know he’s proud. Partly because he was so good at telling you, and partly because how the fuck could he not be? LOOKIT YOU. We’re all proud. You’re a goddamn marshmallow delight. His legacy lives on through your love and your joy and your radiance. BFD forever dot com.

Thanks for seeing something in me that was worth keeping around all those years ago. For loving me through some of my hardest and best times — and all the Marco minutiae in between. Thanks for bringing your sparkliest brand of levity, laughter, and magic to my world.

I hope you feel the impact of the pure gold you’ve poured into us, rippling back in full force on this day of our lard and slayviour, April 28th, 2025. Your 30th orbit of power and presence. May you feel seen, loved, held, honoured, treasured, known.

You make the world softer, sweeter, warmer, wilder. I love you madly, deeply, and forever. I can’t wait to grow old in your basement suite.

xo, Auntie Shannon / Uncle Jerry