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THIS IS US
We Are a Family, but We Grieve Alone
My daughter’s absence was like a wound, raw and weeping. Everything we did together reminded us of who we had lost.
Once I got married and became a mother, I understood that my whole self wasn’t just about me anymore. My life revolved around the other members of my familial collective — my husband and my two daughters. Four was the number that felt complete.
My world was driven by this new connected identity. We did things as a family, planned holidays as a family, and made decisions for the good of the family (mainly, the children) rather than the benefit of one specific part of the whole.
And we were whole. That’s how it felt to me — whole and perfect and never alone. Yes, it could be overwhelming, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss that time when we all fit together like a perfect, seamless puzzle.
I took life for granted. I was perennially distracted. I was too wrapped up in the day-to-day bustle of raising the girls and keeping the family machine running to worry about what the future would look like. I stopped paying attention to each individual piece of the whole. I assumed the way we existed — as a family of four — would last forever.
