Grieving Father Slept in His Son’s Bunk Bed for Months After Losing Wife and Daughter in Tragic Plane Crash

Nearly a year after a devastating plane crash forever changed his life, Andy Beyer is still learning how to survive a world without his wife and daughter.

Earlier this month, the Virginia father hosted what would have been his daughter Brielle’s 13th birthday party — a day that should have been filled with laughter, excitement, and celebration. Instead, it became a heartbreaking tribute to a life cut short.

Brielle, a talented 12-year-old figure skater, was among the 67 people killed last January in a catastrophic mid-air collision involving American Airlines Flight 5342 and a U.S. Army Black Hawk helicopter near Washington, D.C. She was traveling home from a skating development camp with her mother, Justyna, 41, who also lost her life in the crash.

On January 18, about 30 of Brielle’s friends gathered inside her lavender-colored bedroom — the walls still decorated with her Taylor Swift poster — as Andy lit a candle on her favorite dessert: marble cake with whipped cream frosting. The group observed a 15-second moment of silence before releasing 13 balloons into the sky in Brielle’s memory.

“It was an incredibly hard day,” Beyer, 45, tells PEOPLE. “There were so many tears, so many memories. My son saw me cry, which I think is important for him — but it was also overwhelming. He’s traumatized too.”

Andy says his 7-year-old son, Kallen, continues to struggle with the emotional weight of losing both his mother and sister. The past year has been a painful adjustment for them both.

“I really feel like part of me died when they died,” he says. “They were two of the most important people in our lives. Nothing can ever replace them.”

In the immediate aftermath of the tragedy, Beyer says he operated in survival mode. Being alone felt unbearable, so he kept his home filled with people whenever possible.

For the first three months, he slept in the bottom bunk of his son’s bed — a small but powerful gesture inspired by his wife, who used to crawl into the top bunk each night to cuddle with Kallen.

“He loved that,” Beyer recalls. “And honestly, I needed it too.”

Even getting out of bed was a struggle during those early months. Planning the funeral took nearly a full month, and Beyer describes the service as the second hardest day of his life.

“Watching your family be put into the ground is one of the most painful things anyone can experience,” he says.

Still, he made sure the memorial reflected the warmth and love that defined Justyna and Brielle. Friends and family shared stories during an open mic, celebrating their lives. Afterwards, Beyer took his son to Walmart and let him fill a shopping cart with toys — a small attempt to bring comfort after unimaginable loss.

School has been difficult for Kallen as well, as he wrestles with grief, focus issues, and overwhelming emotions.

“People say kids are resilient,” Beyer explains. “But kids are traumatized. Resilience doesn’t just happen — it’s earned through pain and struggle. It’s hard to watch him go through that.”

To stay connected to the loved ones they lost, father and son spend time every night looking at photos and videos of Justyna and Brielle after reading bedtime stories. Andy also shares daily posts in their memory on his public Instagram page.

“They mattered,” he says. “To me, to Kallen, and to so many others. Brielle brought joy everywhere she went. Kids would literally jump out of their seats when she showed up at the rink.”

He describes his wife as a deeply loving and supportive mother who devoted her life to her family.

“We built our lives around raising our kids, helping them chase their dreams, and giving them unconditional love,” he says.

As the one-year anniversary of the crash approaches, Beyer plans to attend a memorial event with his son at DAR Constitution Hall. However, he says he will make the boat trip to the crash site alone.

“It’s hard to put into words the profound sadness of realizing this is our new reality,” he says. “It’s been a year without them, and we miss them every single day.”

Even moments of happiness now come with a heavy emotional cost.

“After a loss like this, joy is never the same,” Beyer explains. “It’s always mixed with sadness, with longing, with the awareness of who should still be here. Life keeps going — but it’s never whole in the way it once was.”