My first Mother?s Day without my daughter fell seven months after her death. India, my only child, died at 16, after a six-year battle with a devastating neurodegenerative disease so rare, we were only given a name for it six months before it took her life.
My husband, Mark, and I were driving through the Chicago area that first Mother?s Day. We were on a pilgrimage of sorts, dedicated to our daughter. Inside my purse, in a red Chinese embroidered bag, were 16 handmade colourful glass beads, each containing a pinch of India?s cremated remains. Our plan was to take most of the beads to Japan in honour of what would have been India?s 17th birthday. Ever since she had discovered the animated films of Hayao Miyazaki, she had dreamt of going there. She had even tried teaching herself the language by watching Japanese soap operas. It was her plan to live there one day.
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This therapy helps grieving parents process child loss and miscarriageWhen we came up with this plan, it didn?t feel right to simply get on a plane and fly there, so we decided on a road trip through the United States to Vancouver, where my sister lived. We would fly to Japan from there. India was a traveller who loved nothing more than singing in the car and going on adventures. We ...