One Day of Parental Grief Through My Eyes

7:00 a.m.: I wake up and shut off my white noise machine, listening for the cardinals. They have a unique song, a melodic that rings through my yard, especially in the morning. I lie very still, imagining that Ana is making them sing, letting me know that she’s close by.

My husband and my 15-year-old daughter, Emily, are still sleeping. On weekdays, I make…