I think October 19 is the toughest day of the year for Scott and I, followed closely by February 26. I want to use the word bittersweet for those days, but the date Elli died is mostly bitter and painful. The only trace of sweet comes when I think about how old she would be (12 this year) and how difficult life would be. I don’t wish her back in the body she had. I can’t.

Elli’s birthday is more bittersweet, carrying with it reminders both of the most difficult chapter in our lives and fond memories of the silly girl we spent 8 years with.

The day we lost our daughter will always be etched he way we feel changes every year. Some years we have been more raw, others more numb; some we’ve cried a lot, others we just need to be quiet. A friend once told me that each year that passed made her miss her late husband more, not less. At the time, this surprised me, but now it makes perfect sense.