Facebook is a cobwebbed attic that I can’t seem to leave. — The first time I posted a photo of my children to Facebook was in 2008 when Emily was 4 and Ana was 7. It wasn’t my plan to turn Facebook into a scrapbook of their lives, but that’s what ended up happening. Ana died in 2017 at the age of…

What comes next when the ending isn’t happy? — Everything I love about happy endings is represented in the following brief montage of “cheating death” moments from a few of my favorite movies. It’s about ET, whose heart light went out, but was (immediately) rekindled by the love of the boy who ultimately saved him. It’s about cherubic young…

On having faith, and giving permission to let go — “How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again.” — Henry Scott Holland Dear Mom, The light is different here. If you saw how this place shines, I think you’d stop worrying about me. The light connects the landscape to every part of itself. It moves…

According to the American Cancer Society, about 600 adolescents, aged 15 to 19, die from cancer each year. In 2017, my daughter, Ana, was one of them. Ana was sick for four and a half years. During most of that time, even as her cancer progressed, I didn’t think that…

As the years pass, it’s becoming harder to manage holiday traditions in a way that leaves space for my grief. — I missed Thanksgiving this year. I spent the holiday alone thanks to a mild cold that had me sneezing and sniffling nonstop. In this post-covid world, we no longer have the luxury of pretending germs aren’t potentially lethal. …

It’s been over six years, and I’m still at the very beginning of this journey. — On day five of Covid, I woke up to the sinking realization that I couldn’t smell anything. It was as if someone had flipped a switch. All the smells had vanished from the world. Slightly desperate, I put candles and spices and bars of soap right up against my nose…

Sometimes the cracks get too big to hold a friendship together. — I met Clara* forty years ago in 7th grade Social Studies — a class where the drone of the teacher’s voice and the way he picked relentlessly at his face lingers like a faded photograph in my cerebral cortex. Clara sat at the desk in front of mine. She was…

For most people, our story ended six years and 8 months ago when my daughter died from cancer. — Winter starts when the Catalpa tree drops its leaves and they puddle on my lawn like a crisp brown lake. I have a clear view of the tree from my office window. I’ve been watching its leaves fall every day as I work. For the past two weeks, I’ve tried…

I am imagining a time when my altar will grow to include all the people I’ve lost. — I started preparing my Day of the Dead (Día de los Muertos) altar in mid-October this year. First, I chose three photos of my daughter, Ana. In one, she is 11 and in sixth grade. The photo was taken about a month after her liver transplant in spring of 2013…