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THINK THEO started as a name of a podcast. I wanted to share the stories of grieving people like me. It quickly grew into a place of understanding — A place to read, listen, and understand that you are not alone. We are all grieving in different ways, but it is important to remember that My Grief is Not Like Yours.
“Daddy, they found a nail in my tire.”
I would always call Daddy, if I needed some air in my tires.
I would always call Daddy, to help with anything that may need fixin’.
I would always call Daddy, to tell me what I should do.
I would always call Daddy, for direction, guidance, and support.
I would always call Daddy, no matter my age, because he was always my Daddy.
Sure, I know how to get to a tire shop and get it fixed, but I always called Daddy.
Now, I just whisper the words to myself…
“Daddy, they found a nail in my tire.”
💔🙏❤️
#thinktheo #theoboyd #fathersday #hope #grief
This girl just popped up on my phone this morning. Notice the date: June 11, 2019.
This was a selfie I sent to Momma because she had bought me this shirt at @gap in Hillsboro, TX before they closed the store.
This was taken before anything truly bad had ever happened in my life. This 47-year-old woman had been through some broken marriages, some stressful job situations, but nothing like she was going to experience that summer of 2019.
I look at this photo, and I try to look behind her smile. I see a naïve, and somewhat innocent, gaze in her eyes. I know my eyes look different now - at least what’s behind them. 
It’s only been seven years, and it feels like a lifetime of heartache. But that’s the funny thing about the heart - it can still function when it’s broken. It even beats stronger.
I feel more alive today, and while I’m saddened by some of the events in my life - I am most proud that I’m still smiling today.
God had me then, and he holds me even tighter today.  You may think that your heart is broken and that it will never be whole again. I’ve got news for you…
God is there - holding your heart together with his hands. And just like Daddy used to preach, “Once you’re in God‘s hands - NO ONE can take you out. You are safe. You are secure. You are His.”
I’m proud of the smiling girl in this picture that popped up on my phone. I can look at her and tell her it’s going to be OK.
And just like Momma always said, “It’ll all work out. That’s just life. We have to keep moving forward.” 💪
#theoboyd #Loss #learningtolive #grief #hope #thinktheo
Don’t let anyone tell you that God won’t give you more than you can handle. He may. My dad is proof of this.
With Father’s Day approaching, remember those that are suffering from the loss of their father to suicide. Remember them, pray for them, and keep your heart open to help anyone that you feel might need you at this moment. I miss my Daddy more than words can say. He was an amazing man that helped so many during his life, and now in his death. He loved people. 🙏❤️#fathersday #loss #suicide #theoboyd #helpothers
Happy Birthday Nellene Cobb 💝 You sure made the last few years with Daddy fun and possible. Thank you for all you continue to do to help with the Boyd farm. We love you and couldn’t do it without you. 🥰 🎉☀️ 🎂 🍦 🎶
As Father’s Day approaches, I try to stay grounded in my childhood memories. It’s easier for me that way. I won’t lie, but of all the days in the year, Father’s Day is one of the most painful. I just take a deep breath and remind myself to count my blessings. I have many.
I have been blessed with an amazing Dad and Granddad. Rather than be deeply saddened by the memory, I choose to think about the strong male examples I have had in my life to admire, respect, and love.
Granddad was a funny character. I remember waiting in Meme’s rocking chair on a hot summer day, the swamp cooler blowing on me, for Granddad to come back from the grocery store. He would bring in a brown paper sack, and I would follow him into their kitchen. He loved to surprise me with orange sherbet ice cream. I loved watching him scoop it out of the paper box. I have the little blue bowls in my kitchen now that he used to scoop it into.
After we both got our ice cream, he would turn on his laughing box. This was like a sound machine, but there was no white noise or ocean sound, it was just a man laughing hysterically. As we ate our ice cream, Granddad would laugh so hard. I remember laughing just because he was laughing.
Daddy was a peanut farmer just like Granddad had been. Daddy loved to tell the story of whenever he would buy a new piece of equipment, Granddad would tell him he didn’t need it.
“That’s too much money.”
“The old one is working fine.”
But then, the next week, Daddy would be in town and overhear Granddad telling all the men at the feed store about the wonderful new tractor or plow that Daddy had just bought. This made Daddy feel so good. He knew that his Dad was just watching out for him, but deep down was very proud.
The memories.
The moments.
The love.
These men.
My Daddy and Granddaddy.
As Father’s Day approaches, I try to stay grounded in my childhood memories. Do you have a favorite memory of the father or grandfather in your life? #fathersday #grief #theoboyd #hope #memories
What do you do when your mind starts spiraling into worry and sadness? I’ve started doing this little song, and it really has helped me. It’s an out-loud reminder that no matter what, everything‘s gonna be OK. Daddy always said this song is not just for kids - adults need it too. #Jesuslovesme #worry-exercise #theoboyd #thinktheo #healing
This was my view this morning. Fog had set in the Bethel Community here in Texas. I could hear the sounds of morning - birds singing and cars in the distance, but it didn’t look like morning. It was dark.
Often, in our dark times, we forget that light still exists. It’s dark. Light isn’t something we feel anymore, or remember. But, as time goes by, we are able to look up and see that light is still there. It’s been there the whole time, shining on us through the fog, showing us the way.
“Hope is always there - waiting for you.” ~ Hope All The Way
Summer is coming fast.
Living back on the farm, I recognize the smells, the sounds, and the way the sun sets in the evening. Memories flood as I hear Daddy’s whistling, Momma cooking in the kitchen, and my baby girl laughing and begging me to go back outside.
The red boots in the photo were a hit! She loved them so much and couldn’t wait to wear them in the field to help her “Bob” pick melons.
Growing up on a farm in Central Texas was such a blessing, and being able to share that experience with my daughter was a double blessing. Being back here now, although painful at times, has given me happiness and hope for tomorrow.
I guess she could say in the photo below, “I carried a watermelon.” #farmlife #texasfarmers #texas #watermelon #theoboyd
I am so proud of my nephew Jonah Locke who graduated yesterday from L.D. Bell High School. I know Momma, Daddy, and his father, were all shining down on him.
On my way home, I saw the most beautiful and vibrant rainbow, and there they were. ❤️
This is my Uncle. I called him Junior.
This photo was taken in 1942, right before he left for WWII. He worked a little gas station that my grandparents owned, in the road right in front of where our farmhouse sits now. Where he is standing in this photo would be my bus stop - just 37 years later.
Steve Boyd, Jr., (Junior) was seventeen years older than my daddy. He was on a bus headed to WWII, when he got word that my daddy had been born.
He was a Merchant Marine, and he would tell me stories of the ships and the dangerous waters. I always tried to imagine what it was like - jumping to swim in the water that was covered with fire.
On this Memorial Day, I remember my Uncle Junior and his service. He was sweet, kind, admired, respected, and loved. Daddy looked up to him in so many ways, and now - they are together forever.
I wonder what Uncle Junior would think of my new house just a few feet away from where he was born?
Time goes by, we move forward, but we do not forget the sacrifice of those that went before us.
Uncle Junior made it home safely, but so many did not. This Memorial Day - let`s remember the price that was paid for the freedom we have. It may seem that things are bad and tense right now, but we still live in a free country because of the brave individuals that fought for it. #MemorialDay #worldwar2 #Remember #freedom
1. Be present.
2. Listen to them.
3. Be present.
4. Listen to them.
5. Be present.
This may seem too simple. We always think we have to do something big or say something profound - we don’t.
Some of the most memorable moments, early on in my grief, were when a friend would be with me and listen to me, really listen.
Your presence matters.
It’s so healing to get out in the garden. But, we can’t all be in an actual garden. Where is your garden? It may be an office, at home, at school. Where do you find yourself? What place is healing for you? #theoboyd #griefbooks #thinktheo #learningtolive #hope
Theo’s love for life encompasses the podcasts and shines through in her writing. I enjoyed both my interview on Theo’s podcast as well as listening to several of her episodes. We all need hope and to smile more. and Theo’s easy and charismatic way of introducing the guest, chatting and bantering with me and her other guests was so refreshing. If you are looking for a meaningful podcast or book to read – THINK THEO!
Theo first had a podcast with me as her guest and then did one with both Dale and me. I admit I was nervous, but Theo made me feel like I was having a
conversation with a good friend. I had a blast! Dale and I both enjoyed the podcast we did together. Theo is such a kind and beautiful woman inside and out!
I will be a fan…. and friend forever!
“Theo Boyd brings a new, unique voice and approach to navigating grief and recovery that every generation can benefit from immediately.”
Theo’s life experiences have shaped her to give others hope during the process of grieving. My time with her on her podcast ThinkTheo helped me to learn how our lives are similar, but yet different in such a way that there is a bond like no other. I am grateful for her gift in helping others understanding that everyone’s grief is not the same, but yet our grief connects us all.