September: Bringing My Daughter With Me
I lost every way I had of expressing my love for my daughter when she passed away six years, five months, and thirty days ago. Her eyes lost their sparkle with one final exhalation, and our enduring relationship was abruptly broken. Or was it?
It appeared as though the phantom umbilicus that united Ana and I—the one that extended from my heart to her actual self—had vanished into a chasm. There was no communication from Ana, but my side of the connection was still intact.
It is lonely to live in this silence. It spans several years. Sometimes it makes me feel flat.
I'm constantly attempting to make a deep connection with Ana's spirit, and occasionally I succeed.
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