Losing two parents in two years upended lifefor Aiden and Evan Fahlman. Now, their community rallies to help

HOPE VALLEY — Seventeen-year-old Evan and Aiden Fahlman cling to comforting memories of their parents, yet for each the joy brought is also a stark reminder of life’s cruelty.

In less than two years, both died — suddenly, without warning, without a chance for good- byes or a last exchange of “I love you.” For these boys, loss isn’t just painful — it seems almost unreal.

“We were both close to our parents,”

Aidensaid in an interview this week. “It’s been hard to go into her bedroom, something I used to do regularly when getting home to say hello.”

Their mother, Erin Brown, died without warning December 19, 2024, of an unexpectedillness and just days before Christmas. Their father died suddenly inOctober, 2022, inside a fire- engulfedsmall travel trailer parked outside at night in Charlestown on Center Street.

For Evan and Aiden, moving forward — one foot in front of the other — is a dailychallenge they rarely talk about.

Grief this deep doesn’tjust pass. It lingers, intertwining with a loss so profound that no teen- ager isequipped to process itfully.

But one thing keeps them going: wrestling for Chariho HighSchool, the unwavering support of friends, and the kindness of a community rallying around them.

With no inheritance or property left behind, they are now facing their future alone.To help ease their burden, Ed and

Roxanne Cekala, parents of a friend, are hosting a fundraiser at Sons of Liberty in Peace Dale on March 15.

The comedy club-likeevent will raise money for the boys’college education,cell phone bills, wrestling gear, and training camps — the everyday expenses once covered by their parents. Tickets are $30, and more information is available by emailing Roxanne Cekala at rrarch- designbuildri@gmail.com.

A relative set up a Gofundme page at https://bit.ly/evanaiden. This Sundaywill be a service for their mother, Erin, a Chariho High School graduate who worked as an assembler at General Dynamics.

Cekala,their relatives and others simply want to help, ensuring every dollar raised goes dir- ectly to the boys. Family members are working to establish accounts to manage the funds, ensuring their guardians can assistwith future expenses.

“I wasn’t expecting anything,” Evan said. “This is awesome, and I don’t even have words to describe how much it means.” He and Aiden continue to livewith their grandfather in the home they once shared with their mother.

Their father, Eric, a self-employed carpenter and Chariho alum, was also a passionate wrest- ler — a love his sons later inherited.

Both avid athletes and high school sophomores, they pour theirenergy, grief, and emotions into wrestling.

“It’s the biggest outlet that helps me … it letseverything go and makes me feel happy,”Evan shared, recalling how their parents supported their lovefor the sport. Their father, a wrestler himself,never got to see them compete, but in a way, wrestling keeps them connected to him. “Part of doing it was to make him proud,” Aiden said. “We were into martial arts when he was alive, just like he was.”

Evan remembers his mother’s words and sweet love after a tough match: “Get back out there, keep practicing. You need those six-pack abs — you’ll be the best there is.”

That relentlessencouragement is something they’llalways miss, but they hold onto the belief that she’s stillwith them in spirit.

Then, as if needing to say it out loud, Aiden suddenly added, “My dad was my superhero. I really respected and admired everything he did. My mom taught me how to cook, and we used to go on runs together — she loved running.”

For a moment, silence settled over the conversation, memories casting a shadow over their words.

Finally,Aiden spoke again, his voice softerthis time.Neither he nor his brother had a chance, as so many peoplehave, to say goodbye to their parents, he said.

In the early morning hours, fire took theirsleeping father in the smallcamp trailer in which he lived. Just over two years later, following a wrestling match, they were rushed to their mother’s bedside at Yale-new Haven Hospital nearly two hours away. A brain bleed had left her unconscious, with little hope for recovery.

All they could do was watch and wait until the end.

There’s no turning back for re-dos now to say goodbye or I love youonce more time, knowing it would be the last, these 17-year-olds have learned in the crucible of life’s harsh realities. Forward is the only way to go.

“It just really hurts every day,” Aiden added, piercing the silence with an unblinking gaze.