In addition to the worried mother of a Denver-based hairstylist, who shared photos of her missing daughter before she disappeared, others are also searching for her.
The loved ones of a 34-year-old Denver hairstylist named Jax Gratton are in search of her after she went missing. According to the Denver Police Department (DPD), Gratton has not been seen in nearly two weeks after leaving her apartment near the 4200 block of E. Iliff Avenue around 10 p.m. on April 15, 2025.
As confirmed by loved ones, Gratton had planned to step out briefly the night she vanished, telling her roommate she would be gone for only a few hours. But that quick outing spiraled into a troubling ordeal when Gratton failed to return home.
Her mother, Cherilynne Gratton-Camis, grew uneasy after several days of no contact, especially on Easter Sunday. This marked the first ominous break in a lifetime pattern of unwavering connection.
“Jax calls me when great things happen and when bad things happen, and every single holiday. She has never missed a holiday,” Gratton-Camis shared.
That particular evening — April 15 — a photo taken from a camera inside Gratton’s apartment captured her just before she walked out the door. No one knew the details of her outing. “It’s just, it’s absolutely a mystery,” her mother said. “No one knows who she was meeting, who picked her up.”
For those who know her well, Gratton’s sudden disappearance doesn’t align with her usual behavior. Brandy Carey, a close friend, emphasized how deeply concerning the situation is, citing how out of character it is for Gratton to leave behind her beloved cat, Madam Francesca, without making arrangements.
“Her not taking her medication, not taking her makeup, but also the fact that she missed several appointments with clients,” adds to the growing concern, Carey told Denver7.
“We just want her to come home. That’s what we just want: Her home, happy, healthy,” stated Carey. In the wake of her vanishing, loved ones have rallied online and on foot, sharing her images, her story, and their hopes.
Gratton’s family and friends are also urging the community to alert the police if they have any tips to report, no matter how big or small.
Should anyone have any information concerning Gratton’s whereabouts, they can contact Denver Crime Stoppers at 720-913-2000. Tipsters also have the option to remain anonymous and could earn a reward of up to $2,000.
Gratton’s loved ones have also expressed gratitude for the support civilians have shown for the hairstylist and the disappearance case.
“She’s very caring. She cares about the people that she comes in contact with, and that doesn’t matter if she’s known you forever or she’s just known you in this moment,” expressed Carey.
Yet, amid the activity and public support, a single, haunting plea from Gratton-Camis continues to echo, “I’m scared for her safety. I just want proof of life.”
In an effort to amplify the search, a Facebook group titled “Find Jax Gratton Denver” has become a central hub for updates and appeals from loved ones. Among the most poignant posts came directly from Gratton’s mother, who shared a set of stills showing her daughter in the final moments before she disappeared.
Captured by an indoor surveillance camera, the images reveal Gratton in a patterned jacket, striped shirt, and loose-fitting pants, holding two bags as she steps toward the door.
The accompanying message from Gratton-Camis reflected a mother’s anguish and suspicion. Gratton’s mom expressed that the photos do not appear to indicate that her daughter was headed out on a date.
She also referenced the fact that Gratton left behind important personal effects. Additionally, Gratton-Camis explained her decision to delay adding certain individuals to the group and hinted at a larger conversation with the detective on the case, saying, “Will share at a later date cause [sic] I think it might be important.”
Her words, layered with grief and urgency, also revealed the emotional toll the search has taken. “I have a lot of work to do. Because I was asking for Jane Does and if course did not think they would list her as male. My love for you all is so strong [sic],” concluded Gratton’s mom.
In a separate post to the Facebook group, Princess Sullivan shared a visual collage of Gratton’s tattoos in hopes that someone might recognize her.
The post features close-up shots of several distinct designs inked across Gratton’s arms, shoulders, and chest, including words, geometric lines, and illustrative pieces.
It is a simple yet powerful contribution to the growing community effort — another way to keep Gratton’s image alive in the public eye, and perhaps spark a lead that could bring her home.
Among the many voices joining the search is that of Theresa Becker, a client of the hairstylist who turned to the group after discovering Gratton had gone missing.
Becker shared that she last heard from Gratton on April 15, the same day she vanished. It was also the day they confirmed an upcoming appointment.
When Gratton never showed up on April 18, worry quickly set in. “She means so much more to me than just gorgeous hair,” Becker wrote.
“We talked about so much. We connected on experiences few [sic] can relate to. She helped me feel a little more at home in the world.” Eager to support the search, Becker expressed her intent to join volunteers canvassing near Washington Park.
Outside of the dedicated search group, Gratton’s mother has also taken to her own Facebook page to raise awareness. In a deeply personal post, she pleaded for anyone who may have seen or heard from Gratton after April 11 to come forward.
Underneath her message, she shared a collage of photos capturing her daughter in different moments — posing with sun-kissed hair against a tropical backdrop, smiling with light curls in a salon mirror, and posing with her hair dyed a soft reddish tone.
As the days stretch, those closest to Gratton continue to reflect on the many ways she has left her mark.
Studio owner Dylan Scholinski, a longtime friend, recently shared a moving message that spans decades of their connection, from the vibrant days of her youth to the creative spirit she carried into adulthood.
His message echoed the same sentiment resonating across every post and every plea: hope. While the uncertainty weighs heavily, the community surrounding Gratton refuses to give up, urging others to keep sharing, keep searching, and above all, to believe that she can be found.
For those who have known her in fleeting moments or lifelong bonds, the wish remains the same — that this chapter ends with Gratton safely home.
My Mom Thought No Man Was Good Enough for Me Until One Invited Her on a Date — Story of the Day
At 37, I thought I could finally date in peace until my Mom crashed dinner with a list of rules… and somehow ended up on a date with my boyfriend.
I always knew I had a mom. But sometimes, it felt like my mom was my whole life. I was 37, but that didn’t stop her from asking me every single day:
“Are you wearing warm socks?” or “Are you sure he looked at you with respect and not… interest?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I worked in a museum, adored art history, lived in my own apartment, had a bank account, and had two degrees… Yet every time I saw “Mom calling” on my phone, I instinctively straightened my posture.
She controlled everything. From when I should go to bed to what color I painted my nails.
Once, I ordered salmon delivery, and 20 minutes later, she called.
“I saw him go into your house. Was that him?”
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“Mom, are you spying on my house?”
“I just sat in the car nearby. In case of suspicious movement.”
She had binoculars. And a notebook. She called it “just in case.”
As a child, it was cute. At 20, it got annoying. By 30, I began to question our “normal.”
At 37, I met Theo.
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For the first time in my life, I didn’t tell her right away.
It was my first grown-up secret. And, of course, it lasted exactly three days. Until Mom ruined everything.
But I’ll tell you that in a moment.
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***
I was preparing for my dinner with Theo. I baked a pie I found online, not from Mom’s sacred recipe book.
Even if it came out a bit burnt and the chicken was a little dry — those were my mistakes. My life.
I could already imagine my mother’s face if she saw the meal — a guaranteed explosion. I smiled quietly to myself while checking the candles.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
A week earlier, she declared, “I want to meet him. In person. At my house. At the table. With my questions.”
“Mom, let me be an adult for once. I’ll decide when to introduce you.”
She backed off for once. It felt odd, but I didn’t think much of it. Big mistake.
That night, Theo came over for the first time. He brought tulips, non-alcoholic wine (knowing I was tired after work), and a cake from the bakery I always visit during lunch.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“I just wanted to get everything right,” he smiled, setting the plates.
“Theo, with you, it always feels right.”
Something warm and calm bloomed in my chest. We talked for hours. Laughed. Dreamed.
“Imagine… a little house by an old lighthouse,” he said.
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“And in the basement — an archive of old love letters.”
“You’d preserve them, and I’d write new ones.”
Candles were burning low. Music hummed softly. He touched my hand.
“I thought after all the heartbreaks, nothing would ever happen again. And then you came along…”
And at that exact moment…
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“ACHOO!”
From the closet. We froze.
“You’re not alone?” Theo shot me a look.
I got up. Opened the closet.
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“Mooom?!”
She sat in the dark. With a headlamp. And a thermos.
“What… what are you doing?!”
“Oh, hi! I was just checking if you’re storing things in your closet without lavender,” she mumbled, not even trying to sound convincing.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You broke into my apartment?!”
“I was just making sure. Listening. Evaluating. I didn’t interfere!”
Theo, somehow, still managed to smile politely.
“Good evening. I’m Theo. Very nice to meet you.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Theo. Short. Like most male patients,” Mom said, sitting on the couch. “Sit. Let’s get to know each other.”
I wanted to run. But Theo sat down. Bravely.
And the interrogation began.
“Do you have a job?”
“Yes. I teach literature…”
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“Do you work 9 to 5?”
“Flexible hours.”
“So, no structure. Got it. Do you drink alcohol?”
“A glass of wine, sometimes…”
“Sometimes means regularly.”
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“Mom…”
“Quiet, Eliza. I’m asking.”
Then she turned back to him again, “How many women before my daughter?”
“I… excuse me?”
“Are you deaf?”
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“No, I just think that’s a bit…”
“You should always think. Before approaching a woman with serious intentions.”
Theo looked at me. As if to ask, “Is this a joke?”
I tried to say with my eyes, “No. This is my life.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Mom stood up. “Now, a test.”
“What?” we both said.
“Wipe the table. With a sponge. No streaks. If there’s even one mark — you’re not for her.”
“Mom, enough!”
I was desperate and angry. But to my greatest surprise…
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Theo stood up, went to the kitchen, found the sponge… and wiped. It was perfect. She checked the surface and ran her finger across.
“Hmm. Survived. For now.”
Then, Mom dramatically handed Theo a paper. He smiled while skimming it, then slowly, he frowned before handing it to me.
“I think I should go. I’ll call you.”
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He left. Just like that. I finally looked down at the letters she wrote in thick black marker.
RULES FOR DATING MY DAUGTER
1. Have a job.
2. Understand I don’t like you.
3. I am EVERYWHERE.
4. You make HER cry — I make YOU cry.
5. Be home 30 min early.
6. SHE is my PRINCESS. Not your conquest.
7. I don’t mind going to jail.
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Daugter. With a typo. That said it all.
“Mom, it’s time for you to go.”
“Oh, sweetie, if he leaves at the first sign of trouble, is he even a man?”
“He didn’t leave me. He said he’d call.”
“Same thing.”
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“Maybe he just didn’t enjoy being around you?”
“You’re overreacting.”
“You crossed the line, Mom! Please, leave. I want to be alone.”
Mom’s words echoed in my head.
Has Theo really left… forever?
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***
Three days passed. No texts. No calls. I caved and sent him a short message:
“I’m sorry for how everything went. You didn’t deserve that.”
Seen. No reply.
And then — a knock at the door. I opened it, my heart racing. It was him and he was there with flowers.
“Come on. I’ve planned a date… for you and your Mom.”
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I blinked. “What?”
“Just trust me.”
We picked up my Mom. She barely got in the car before starting her usual commentary.
“Where are we going? I have to defrost the freezer!”
“Surprise,” Theo smiled.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The first stop? His lecture.
Mom and I sat in the back. Theo stood in front of a class full of students, talking about love in literature.
“To be with someone doesn’t always feel poetic. But it’s always worth it.”
“Oh, I might fall asleep here,” Mom whispered.
“Mom. Shhh.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“If he’s trying to seduce us both with lectures — he failed.”
I gave her a look. But I held on. I knew this wasn’t all Theo had planned.
Next stop — a boat ride. On the lake, with a plaid blanket, strawberries, and tea in a thermos. (Yes, the exact tea Mom liked. He remembered.)
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“Yet another romantic coma,” Mom muttered, but this time, she was chuckling.
As we floated, Theo turned to her gently.
“So, Barbara. What are your hobbies?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Hobbies? Suspicion. Avoiding scams. Crosswords when I can’t sleep.”
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“I bet you’re good at them.”
“I once found three typos in The New York Times. Sent them a letter. And you didn’t find one.”
“You planted that typo?”
“Of course, sweetie — it was a test for your Theo.”
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“A test? For spelling? Mom, he’s a university professor!”
“No, more like a test for politeness,” she smirked. “He passed.”
Then she leaned to move closer to the edge… and slipped.
SPLASH.
She fell right into the water. I gasped. Then, she laughed so hard I nearly joined her.
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“YOU LAUGHING? I COULD DROWN!”
Theo jumped in without hesitation. Swam straight to her, helped her out, and wrapped her in a blanket. Soaked, shivering, furious — but secretly touched. Back on land, she was about to stomp away.
“I need to go home. I’m done.”
Theo calmly said, “There’s a sports store nearby. Time for a wardrobe refresh.”
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He disappeared. Came back ten minutes later with two matching athletic outfits. One for me. One for Mom. She held hers suspiciously.
“How did you guess my size?”
“Easy. You’re built perfectly for a Medium. Athletic and classic.”
She smiled. Barely. Quietly. But I saw it. She loved attention.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
We changed. And then — the climbing wall.
“Last challenge, I promise,” Theo grinned. “Climbing wall. One climbs, the other keeps the rope. Trust exercise.”
“Oh no. I’m 60!”
“Exactly. Perfect age for adventure.”
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To my absolute shock, Mom went first. Halfway up, she shouted:
“THEO! IF I FALL — I’M HAUNTING YOU!”
She didn’t fall. She reached the top. And when she came down, her eyes were gleaming.
“Okay, professor. Not bad.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“To end the day,” Theo said, “I’d like to make you both dinner. My place.”
Mom looked at me. “I have no choice. I need to see where this man lives. Maybe I’ll discover his secret lair.”
***
Theo’s house was beautiful. Clean. Warm. It smelled like citrus and cedar. I’d never been there before. And I was stunned.
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“Did you buy this on a teacher’s salary or rob a bank?” Mom asked, peeking into the kitchen.
“Started saving in high school. Plus I teach online courses on the side. Hard work pays off.”
“Well, look at you,” she muttered. Then, louder, “Does the fridge clean itself, or are you just this weird?”
Theo just laughed.
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We sat on the terrace. Theo grilled steaks nearby while the sun dipped low. Mom leaned back. Actually relaxed.
“You know… he’s not so bad, honey.”
“Really? Wow. Mom, you’re on fire today.”
“I was too distrustful. Because your father left. And I didn’t want you to get burned like I did.”
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“But Mom, it’s my life. I need to make my own mistakes. Walk my own path.”
“Theo is wonderful. It’s obvious he loves you. I mean, he jumped in a lake to save his future mother-in-law.”
We both laughed.
“And he could’ve dropped me on that climbing wall. But he didn’t. That’s some nerve control.”
Theo joined us, carrying two plates.
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“Hungry?”
“Always,” Mom said.
“Even for this? Because I have one more course.”
Theo knelt on one knee.
“Eliza, these past three months have been the best of my life. You’ve brought color back into everything. And your mom… we’re friends now.”
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“Almost,” Mom added.
“Not even the rule list could scare me away. I want to share my home, my life… all of it. And yes, even see your mom — but no more than twice a week.”
He laughed. I gasped.
“Will you marry me?”
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I blinked. Heart racing.
“Sweetheart,” Mom nudged me. “I’d have said yes already.”
“YES. Of course — yes!”
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***
Mom changed.
She started Pilates, bought her first floral swimsuit, and we no longer lived in a co-dependent loop. We were separate but always family.
Finally, our coffee dates felt like chats between old friends.
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She told me about her fitness class. I told her how Theo’d forgotten to take out the trash and called it a “creative delay.”
I finally became myself. And I think — she also did.
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