A Message from Daniel’s Family:

Our family created this dedicated fund in memory of Daniel and to return the kindness and hope that we found at the Carefarm. This Memorial Fund is part of ness and hope that we found at the Carefarm. This Memorial Fund is part of our Journeys Upstream endeavors and projects.
Our family created this dedicated fund in memory of Daniel and to return the kindness and hope that we found at the Carefarm. This Memorial Fund is part of ness and hope that we found at the Carefarm. This Memorial Fund is part of our Journeys Upstream endeavors and projects.
Located outside of Sedona, the Selah Carefarm was created by Joanne Cacciatore, PhD, founder of MISS Foundation. In 2018, people from many countries and states visited the Carefarm to spend time in this beautiful place, to remember their loved ones and find ways to bear the unbearable.
To continue your support:
Just click the “Donate Now” button below, and you can help right now. Donations are tax-deductible. If you’d prefer to make your donation by check through the mail, please make check payable to MISS Foundation and mail to our business address: MISS Foundation, P.O. Box 9195, Austin TX 78766. Please indicate on the check’s subject line the donation is for Selah House. Please include your contact information and your email address, along with who the donation is in honor of.
Thank you.
A Letter from Dan’s Mom, Venessa
“The moment I got out of the car, I felt calmed by the beauty of the autumn landscape — the red dust, the leafless trees, the rescue horses grazing in the pasture. The medallions, bearing the names of loved ones, chimed and tinkled in the breeze. For the first time since Danny’s death, I breathed without huge effort.
In a precious moment of understanding, I felt Caspian save my life. When I met this beautiful 22-year-old Arabian rescue horse, he stood alone in the paddock, skittish from years of abuse. I was afraid that if I got too close, he might rear up and hurt himself or me. I understood this—to want comfort yet not know how to let anyone close.
As I turned to leave, he unexpectedly approached and I held my breath. He looked directly at me, with clear eyes, and lowered his scarred face toward the earth, resting his chin near my feet. I stroked his long neck and wept—for him, for myself, for my Danno. For the first time since my son’s death, I felt hope. Hope that I might survive this anguish.
“While no one can take away our pain, we found great comfort at the Carefarm. Knowing that we were not alone, and accepting that love and grief are one and the same, our family wants to be part of building a place for those experiencing the trauma of loss.”
