It is that I don’t want you to see me as a victim, someone who stopped living when I lost the person I loved. To do so, when I had survived something that had claimed so many, would have been a terrible, selfish thing. In many ways, my life has been rather like a record of the lost and found. Perhaps all lives are like that. Lost: love; found: independence. Lost: a daughter; found: a granddaughter.” I felt something expand inside me at this, almost a pain—but of the best sort.
