Our lives changed quickly and forever after Ana’s diagnosis at age 11. Her cancer left a trail of broken hearts.
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On the anniversary of her child’s death, a mother reflects on five years of missing her daughter.
My daughter’s absence was like a wound, raw and weeping. Everything we did together reminded us of who we had lost.
I could not fathom failing at the most basic measure of good motherhood. But some things cannot be fixed.
You must forget all you thought you knew about grief when the landscape of your life has been demolished.
