News

Joy, your way—born in quiet moments that whisper uniqueness, spark joy, and heal the heart.  

The Last Words I Hold Close

Last September, on a crisp, quiet morning, my grandpa—the man who raised me, bandaged my scraped knees, and taught me life over cups of bitter tea and his trusty calculator—slipped away. He was my everything: my first teacher, my biggest cheerleader, the one who loved me most.

Days before he passed, he recorded a voicemail. His voice, rough yet tender, reached through the phone: “My girl, don’t stay sad too long. Keep smiling. You’re loved—don’t ever forget that.” I didn’t know then it was his goodbye, but I’ve clung to those words since, replaying them when the silence feels too heavy. 

Losing him carved a hollow space in me. My smile—the one he said could brighten any room—faded. I’d listen to his words, longing for his off-key humming or the way he’d nudge me to laugh, but the shadows clung tight. Could joy, love, and peace feel real again? 

Chasing Light in a Distant Land

After he was gone, I drifted—weeks blurring into a fog I couldn’t shake. I missed him—his quirks, his steady presence. I needed a spark, something to guide me toward light again. One restless night, I stumbled across Eat Pray Love, Elizabeth Gilbert’s memoir of healing. Her time in Ubud, a lush, soulful town in Bali, struck a chord. “Maybe the once-cherished joy could meet me there,” I thought, “in a way that’s mine alone.”

Two months after Grandpa’s passing, I boarded a plane, carrying a fragile hope that I’d find my footing.  

A Stranger’s Unexpected Spark

One humid afternoon in Ubud, I stepped into a small bookshop, searching for a physical copy of Eat Pray Love—something tangible to hold. My voice was soft as I asked a man in a rumpled linen shirt, mistaking him for staff: “Do you have Eat Pray Love?” Grief shadowed my face, impossible to hide.

He paused, his eyes kind and steady, then said, “I don’t have the book, but I have love for you.”  

I stood still, caught off guard. His gaze held mine, as if saying, “I see you—you’re not alone.” He didn’t know my story, yet he saw the weight I carried and met it with that simple, unexpected line. Then he smiled and walked away, leaving me there, stunned.  

A flicker of warmth stirred inside me. For the first time since Grandpa, a small, honest smile curved my lips. That stranger didn’t hand me a solution—he gave me a moment, a spark of joy shaped just for me, healing in its quiet, simple way.  

The Truth That Tied It Tight

Back home, that encounter stayed with me, a steady hum beneath the ache. Grandpa, an accountant who lived by numbers, understood life’s deeper math: it’s what we give that counts. He loved quoting Winston Churchill: “We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.”  

That stranger in Bali lived it, tossing me a thread of light when I needed it most. Joy doesn’t always arrive with fanfare—it can slip in softly, shaped by the moment, yours to claim.  

Jolly Gogo: Joy, Your Way

How do you hold onto love when words aren’t enough? How do you share a spark that feels true? The answer became Jolly Gogo: Add meaning. Multiply happiness. Subtract regret. 

That’s where Jolly Gogo began—a name that buzzes with joy and races with heart. We create gifts that do more than gather dust—they speak. They’re for the moments when “I’m here” needs to be held, not just heard. Each piece carries joy your way—small sparks that blaze with meaning, as unique as your story, healing with every touch.

A doormat stamped “The Thompsons”—your family’s name welcoming you home to your safe haven.  

A necklace etched with “Pal”—for the friend who’s always there, worn close to your heart.  

A mug blooming with “LOVE”—Grandpa’s voice in every warm sip, reminding you you’re cherished.  

A bookmark with their birth flower—a daisy for Mom’s warmth, a pine for your brother’s strength—a quiet “you’re you.”  

l A pillow with a loved one’s face—your kid’s grin, your pup’s sleepy sprawl—comfort you can hold tight.

Make It Yours, Share It Forward

We’re here for what matters—the memory that steadies you, the person who lifts you higher. Tell us about them—the one who taught you strength, the moment that surprised you—and we’ll craft it into something real. A locket, a canvas, a keepsake you can touch. Made with care—strong enough to endure, gentle enough to feel—because your joy deserves its own shape, its own way.  

Lighting the Way, Together

That stranger didn’t fix me, but he reminded me I wasn’t alone. Grandpa’s gone, but his love moves me forward. Jolly Gogo is my way of sharing that light—small gestures that say “you’re loved,” each one a joy you define. These gifts let you celebrate your way: through nostalgia, laughter, or a quiet thank-you. Love doesn’t need to shout—it lingers in the steady, simple ways we connect.  

“Go go” is a cheer for us all. Thank you for seeing the people you love. Thank you for letting us help you say it. Jolly keeps going, because smiles never end. 

Jolly Gogo – Joy, your way. Love, and be loved. Always.