Don't grieve alone; 14,000 members and growing
Our daughter Samantha died on May 6, 2018. She was a healthy, vibrant 29 year old woman. She was hitting stride with her career and loving her independence. She fractured her ankle on April 13th. Autopsy showed that she had a massive pulmonary embolism as a result of blood clots from the fracture.
We are broken. My husband and I recently retired and live 3 provinces away. Our son, Danny and Samantha shared a house together. Danny found Sam in her bedroom, gone.
How do we continue without her? We spoke, texted, Skype daily. We have support, but this situation is so hard. I feel unearthed, waiting for normal. I know we will all continue on, but finding happiness and joy in life seems unfathomable right now.
We had a celebration of life for her and over 400 people came. She was loved by so many in her short time here. Her friends contact us regularly, and I welcome that. Our son is now staying with us (temporarily) and I find myself panicked when he goes out. He is 28 years old and has not lived with us for a number of years. I don't want to smother him, but want him right beside me all the time.
I lost my parents within 11 months of each other. Losing our daughter is nothing like my parents. Samantha did not get to live the life she was working on. She should have had a fantastic career, expanded her education, found love...so many undone things. I try to make sense of it all, but there is no sense to be made. She is gone and everyone who knew her, their lives are forever changed. They were also lives that were enriched by having Sam be part of their lives.
How do we follow this new path, and where will it lead us? I hope that one day I will be able to talk about my daughter with the pride and love I hold in my heart and not cry for what could have been. I want to be proudly open about the phenomenal accomplishments she achieved in her short time here. I don't want to cry about the...what if?. I want to celebrate the...you did it!
This is the beginning of our journey, without our daughter. The first step to start our new 'normal is to find our path. Perhaps Sam, you can lead us.
We love you Sammy and will miss you forever.