As I write this, I am just nine days away from the seven-month anniversary of the hardest conversation I’ve ever had. My beloved daughter, just a week after celebrating her 31st birthday, took her final breath after a brave fight with stage 2 breast cancer. She was diagnosed exactly one year earlier, during the pandemic.
I had just stepped away from her bedside to be with my 13-year-old, who was struggling and wanted to leave. Sadly, my daughter passed away before I could return to her side.
This is especially heartbreaking because my grandchildren had already been through so much. They lost their stepfather in January 2019, their baby sister in February 2019, and saw their mother’s health decline during the lockdown in 2020.
I had to go back and tell my grandchildren that their mother had died. The 10-year-old cried, while the 13-year-old shut down emotionally.
My daughters have gone through so much and are still trying to cope with everything they’ve lost.
I now keep her ashes with me, and the 10-year-old sometimes comes in to hug “mommy.”
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