The Photo That Never Changes
In January 2017, twenty-one months after my daughter Maddie died at fourteen, I wrote about the photos on my fridge. Everyone else's get swapped out at the end of the school year. Hers does not. Nine years on, I'm putting the piece back up unchanged, with one correction: I was wrong about what her brothers were carrying, and wrong about why.
Nobody Asks How the Brothers Are
When my daughter died, her brothers were 13 and 9. Their hockey teams made black armbands with both boys' numbers on them. There was no school in that neighbourhood where they walked in as two kids nobody had heard about. This is about surviving siblings, what a grieving parent misses while they're inside their own grief, and the one thing to say to a family that has other children at home.