The Support Group

The cancer took her on her eighth trip around the sun. By the end, the daughter I had once known was gone. When she died, she took a piece of me with her.

I had never known true love until I looked into those sky blue eyes – those eyes that seemed to look straight into your very being.

Her father is of no consequence. Just a man I knew for one night, but he brought me the greatest joy in my life and for that I am eternally grateful.

I don't know what to do with my life now, which is partly why I'm here. It's just so lonely without her. I had to take all of the pictures down from the walls because on quiet nights, I'd hear her calling to me.

I think she wants me to join her.

And I very well might.

But first, I have to give life another try. I need to see if there's anything worth living for without her. I know that I had a life before her and I can have a life without her, but I need you to show me how.

We're all just a group of screwed up childless parents wandering around in a cloud of despair of confusion. I just need to see if it's possible to wander together. And if this experiment fails spectacularly and you're no help to me at all, then I'll join my baby girl in her home in the dirt until we're both just bones and dust.