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I have gone back and forth deciding whether or not to write this book, simply because, for one who has always needed some sense of control, I will expose how vulnerable I really am. I then thought about the people I had met along my grief stricken path who, like me, have struggled with confronting their loss. My hope is that this book will help those who can not find their way out of the fog, but mostly for those observers who do not understand why the fog will not dissipate.

Chapter One

As far back as I can remember I wanted to be a mother. While my friends were trying to figure out careers and paths after high school, I just wanted to start a family, and I did, being blessed with three wonderful children. My family was my life.

I have experienced the loss of my parents, two brothers, my best friend of thirty-two years, two miscarriages, and two children. All of the losses were greatly felt, but the loss of my twenty year old daughter and twelve year old son changed me forever. The loss of any child is tremendous, but there is something about the loss of a child when you are still in the active, day to day, mothering years. The daily talks, laughter, arguing, and being there to comfort them just stops. No transition period. My identity was my family. If I had made a name plate for my desk, it would have simply read, 'Wife and Mother'. I assumed that I would watch my children grow, each embracing independence, and would be the first to leave this earth since this is the natural progression of life. My son had a questionable life span because of a heart condition, but I never would have thought, in a million years, that harm would come to my daughter. No wonder I tried to run away from the pain when my greatest fear came to pass. I ran from all of the kind people trying to be helpful. I ran from the embarrassment I felt from the attention, stares, and the words "I'm sorry". I turned away from God and the wonderful, blinding reality, hope he had instilled within me. I knew the reality of what had occurred, but ran from the fear of what would happen if sorrow was allowed to engulf me. Day after day, the wall to protect myself became taller and nearly impenetrable.

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