Shining Luca’s light
It’s been 12 years since Julia Winter’s adored four-year-old son Luca died in unimaginable circumstances. Since then, Julia has lived a private life, but now she is ready to step back into the light, into Luca’s light.
His name means “the bringer of light” and that’s how Julia Winter remembers her beautiful boy Luca – a “divine human” who radiated light and love.
The happy four-year-old, with his blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and cheeky smile, was always by his mum’s side, her “little offsider”.
Julia recalls one of their last days together, Luca and his little brother enjoying time at the beach.
“It was only days before Luca’s life was taken and we went to the beach and there was this beautiful rainbow in the sky,” Julia says. “Luca loved rainbows, and he wanted to find the rainbow treasure.
“I was playing with the boys, and we were looking for the treasure, but I stopped and said to Luca, ‘Sweetheart, you are the rainbow treasure’, and we had this beautiful moment together. It was very profound.”
It was later that week that Luca lost his life, dying at the hands of his father David Janzow.
The details of that unimaginable day have been well publicised over the years. Julia woke to find Luca and her then-husband, Janzow, who suffered mental health issues, gone. Worry turned to panic as she desperately called family and friends trying to track them down, before going to the local police station.
The next time Julia saw Luca was in the emergency room as doctors tried desperately to save his life.
“I just had to get to him because I thought if I was with him, he’d survive,” Julia says.
“I remember walking in and hearing the heart monitor going, and I just held Luca’s hand. I stayed there for a little while before they ushered me out.”
In December 2015, David Janzow was found not guilty of murder by reason of mental incompetence. He was detained at mental health facility James Nash House and has since been released back into the community with supervision, with provisions given early on that have been relaxed over time and remain ongoing.
Reflecting on that day, Julia says there was no warning that anyone in her home was ever at risk.
“Not in my wildest dreams would I have thought that danger could exist within our own home – in the boys’ father, my now-ex,” she says. “We were a happy, peaceful family of four.”
In the almost 12 years since her devastating loss, Julia has rarely spoken to the media.
Instead, in the early days she shared her thoughts and feelings via her social media page, “My Rainbow Journey – by Julia Winter”, only returning to it last year.
Julia says she has drawn strength from that page, unexpectedly tapping into a community of followers who have been inspired by her story of courage and resilience in the face of unfathomable trauma.
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“At the time we lost Luca, it felt like the world, for me, had stopped spinning,” Julia says. “I couldn’t believe that the sun kept coming up, and the world just kept moving forward. I thought, ‘How could that happen when it’s broken? Everything is broken’.
“So, I started My Rainbow Journey as an outlet for grief, sharing my story and honouring Luca. But people from all over the world and from all walks of life contacted me to share their experiences. The common thread throughout it all is them saying, ‘If you can do it, I can do it, too’.
“I’ve had people with grief, loss, family breakdowns, addiction, eating disorders – even someone who lost their home in a house fire – all sorts of situations I wouldn’t have thought my story could help.
“But by having them reach out to me saying, ‘Thank you for sharing’ and realising that if I can offer anything, I see it as sharing Luca’s love and light, sprinkling his magic everywhere and that’s my honour as his mum.”
In an exclusive interview with SALIFE, this inspiring mum of two says she is now ready to share Luca’s light in a wider sense, taking control of her narrative while honouring her cherished boy.
It has been a long journey to get to this point. In the aftermath of the tragedy, Julia and her younger son moved interstate, as the memories of Adelaide, of familiar places and faces, were too painful.
Living in a new environment allowed Julia the space to start healing, grieving for Luca while “staying open to life”.
“I chose to go through my grief; I had to let myself feel everything deeply and decide how I moved forward,” she says.
“So, I chose, over and over again, to feel all of it and move forward in the ways I’ve learned, focusing on love, gratitude, wellness, kindness, and openness to life.
“Moving away from Adelaide was a conscious choice to protect my son, to protect myself, and to create a safe, peaceful, and loving environment for our little family as we healed.
“The cracks still appear and when they do it’s raw and beautiful all at once because this is life, the heartbreak and the hope, all woven together.”
Julia has also chosen to talk now to commemorate what would have been Luca’s 16th birthday on April 6. It was a difficult day, as it has been every year since 2014, but also one of reflection, she says, focusing on kindness and joy. That day, Julia spent time with family at the beach and remembering life with Luca.
“Luca and my youngest are everything to me, and of course part of everything in my life,” she says.
“We had beautiful memories together of reading books at night, baking in the kitchen, Luca with his little chef’s hat, going to playgrounds, sharing babyccinos, visiting friends and family.
“Luca also loved the zoo, especially the flamingo, Greater, who he would watch with wonder.
“At the time we lost him, I was preparing to open my own flower studio. Luca was my little offsider, my flower helper. He would watch me work with such pride, and we would talk about the flowers together, sunflowers were our favourite. I cherished those moments deeply.
“When I think about it, sunflowers represent who he is as well, because they are such a happy, beautiful flower. Yellow was his favourite colour.”
Julia says she is also more comfortable to speak publicly now, as her younger son is 14 years old, an age where he can start to process the facts around his big brother’s tragic passing.
“This is not something I ever thought I would be living,” Julia says. “This is something you’d see on the news, but to be in it, and to learn to live with it, I had to find a way forward while protecting and raising my younger son. It really is hard to find words.
“We are now able to talk more about our family tragedy, and I have his blessing to do the work I feel called to do. I’m so proud of who he is and the young man he is becoming.”
For Julia, that work has involved training to help others to navigate life and transitions, to gain clarity on what’s next, and move forward with more calm, confidence, and direction. She is now a certified coach, establishing her own business and guiding clients through times of change and new beginnings. She has also worked in the palliative care space, supporting others through grief and loss, bringing a depth of lived and learned understanding to her work.
As she speaks, Julia is measured with her words, quietly spoken but absolutely focused on her goals – to honour her much-missed Luca while making a difference in the lives of others.
“Finding my way forward has been about learning what works for me, one step at a time, day by day, and at times breath by breath – always trying to be kind and gentle with myself along the way,” she says.
“While I was living through everything, I knew there needed to be more support for people navigating how to move forward and rebuild their lives. That’s the work I am now doing as a certified coach.
“Through it all, I’ve come to understand the importance of wellbeing, resilience and growth as something lived and evolving over time.”
Julia says that throughout her journey, she has seen a gap between the incredible professional support available, and the human side of what people are going through.
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“There’s a need for someone to sit in that space,” she says. “To sit between systems and lived experience, to offer guidance and help people find their way forward. I believe there is a much kinder way to support people through challenging times, especially when navigating complex systems.
“Straight after the doctor told me they couldn’t save Luca, I remember saying, ‘I want to donate Luca’s organs’, but I was told that was not possible due to the circumstances of his death.
“I remember at that point just feeling like I had to step back, even though he’s my darling boy, and I should be entitled to what happens, I had no say. And so, I just had to surrender and think I’m not going to fight it. I can’t fight it because I couldn’t win. And that was just the beginning.”
In the hours after Luca’s passing, Julia describes her gut-wrenching journey home, where her younger son was being cared for by relatives.
“We went into the lounge room, where the boys would have normally been having breakfast and morning tea and maybe watching something on the TV while I was cleaning up,” she says. “That morning, my youngest son was there on his little sofa, but Luca’s was empty next to him.
“I remember looking at the shopping that we bought the day before, the boys’ favourite food, salmon and all their fruit and veggies, it was just sitting in the fridge and I thought, ‘What do I do with all this?’ It was meant to be dinner the next day, and we never had that opportunity to have another meal. And the clothes in the washing basket. Do I wash them? Do I hold them?”
In the years since Luca’s death, Julia has had to find new ways of enjoying life, rediscovering simple pleasures, including the healing power of nature.
“When we lost Luca, life felt both unreal and more real than ever,” she says. “Everything slowed down and sped up all at once. There was so much to do, so many people, so much noise, yet such a void and emptiness. There was also so much love, softness and a feeling of being truly present.
“Colours were more vivid, sounds seemed sharper. In the midst of everything, there was also an awareness, a presence that I had never experienced before.
“From then on, I remember noticing the smallest details in nature like the glistening in a drop of water, colours in a bubble, dew on a spider’s web, sunrises and sunsets.
“Nature became a quiet anchor for me, bringing me back to myself, again and again, on my healing journey.”
Eades and is one of her most beloved reminders of her little boy.
Incredibly, even while struggling with her own crippling grief, Julia has always been mindful about how others are coping, including Luca’s heartbroken teachers and little friends at the early learning centre at Prince Alfred College.
She recalls when one of Luca’s young family friends found out that Luca had gone to heaven and asked, “Could we get a fire truck and throw a rope up to Luca to bring him back down to us?”.
“The innocence of that question, and the pain behind it, has stayed with me ever since,” she says. “We all wanted him back here with us and we still do.
“The impact of Luca’s life and his loss have reached far beyond our family and community, and is still felt widely today. He is
so missed.”
When asked how she feels about her ex-husband now, Julia says she is “deeply disappointed”.
“I wouldn’t say I hate him, because I don’t want to hold that energy,” she says. “If I turn it into hate, I’m only harming myself and that’s not an option. But I can tell you that I continue to feel deep disappointment. There are no words to fully capture what he has done.
“What I find especially difficult is that he has never apologised for killing Luca, not to me and not, as far as I am aware, to anyone else. I can’t fathom him surviving what he did, let alone the choices that he’s made since.”
Julia says she holds onto precious memories of her two young boys together, in the days “before everything changed”.
“The night before was the last time I saw my sweet, innocent four-year-old alive. My two little boys were tucked into their beds, smiling, happy and seemingly safe. I told them I loved them, and I remember their little faces, their innocent voices and lots of laughter.”
During her chat with SALIFE Julia points out a small rainbow reflected onto her plate from a jug of water on the table.
“My focus is Luca, he is part of everything I do, in a way that moves me forward,” she says. “I see him in the light around me – in rainbows, in moments of beauty, in the reminders that love is never far away.”
These days, happiness comes in many forms – time with her son, the ocean, sunrises, good health, living simply, eating well and being with friends and family.
Julia rarely returns to her hometown in the Barossa Valley these days but says her cousin, Reanna, as well as her family and a handful of old and new friends have been her “rocks” and she is eternally grateful for them.
When asked what she hopes people will feel after reading this story, Julia doesn’t hesitate.
“I want them to feel love,” she says. “I want them to know that you can really get through things that seem impossible, that you can create a beautiful life, recreate it. It will never be the same, but part of being a human is that we are constantly growing, we’re evolving. Things are always changing, and we are all stronger than we know.
“I’d also say to people hug your children and your loved ones, and tell them you love them and honour the gift of life.
“I have learnt to hold grief and joy in the same breath, and more and more Luca is a guiding presence in how I live each day. It’s time to honour him and spread his love and light far and wide.
“I honour him in how I live, how I love, and how I show up in the world. I could stay in the darkness or look for the light. I choose Luca’s light.”
When asked what she misses most about her darling Luca, Julia smiles: “Everything”.
This article first appeared in the May 2026 issue of SALIFE magazine.
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