Chapter 1: The Journey of Grief

For the past seven years, I've been penning my thoughts about the loss of my daughter, Ana. Each year brings a shift in my understanding of grief and how to navigate this profound absence in my life.

I've crafted numerous essays, attempting to piece together the puzzle of Ana's passing and discover a way to cope with this sorrow in a manner that feels sustainable. I've written letters from Ana, given personality to grief itself, and experienced the daily struggle of integrating it into my existence.

Maintaining a sense of purpose and value in my life without Ana demands immense effort. Writing serves as a refuge. It allows me to celebrate Ana's life, share her story, and utter her name softly as I read aloud. I write because I need to keep her memory alive, revisiting her through photographs and narratives that connect her to the world.

The loneliness of losing a child can be overwhelming, yet the responses from readers—especially other grieving parents—have been a source of profound healing for me.

My essays often carry a somber tone. Reflecting on my work from 2017 to 2020, I recognize how close I was to succumbing to despair. This is a constant risk when mourning a lost child. My heart has been deeply scarred, and I initially doubted my ability to move forward.

However, the passage of time, the natural world, and my affection for the other cherished individuals in my life, particularly my younger daughter and husband, have supported me through those early years. Today, I find myself in a vastly different emotional landscape compared to just a few years ago. It was from this place of newfound hope that I composed the essay that reached millions.

Traditionally, I write an essay about Ana to publish around the anniversary of her death on March 22nd. This year, I sought to capture a joyful childhood memory of Ana, something her close family and friends might still cherish.

Through these years of grief, I’ve discovered that recalling Ana brings me joy more readily now. While the grief remains, it feels lighter and less overwhelming.

As I approached the seventh anniversary of Ana's passing, I wanted to focus on her life rather than her death. I aimed to illuminate something delightful about her, allowing others to know her a bit more.

I wrote about Ana's imaginative world, Arkomo, and submitted it to HuffPost in January. I had previously published there in 2018, prior to its acquisition by Buzzfeed.

After submitting a few pieces since then to HuffPost—most of which were rejected—this time, my essay was accepted. The editor promised to publish it in March, aligning with the anniversary of Ana's death. I was overjoyed.

Last week, the piece went live. "It's up!" my editor notified me, prompting me to check HuffPost immediately. I shared the essay on Facebook, planning to revisit it later for comments. Here it is:

Almost instantly, I began receiving emails about the piece. People were searching for me online, visiting my website, and completing my contact form. This was my first indication that the essay might resonate more widely than previous writings.

My editor included a link to my contact form at the bottom of the article (with my approval), and the flood of correspondence began.

Throughout the day, emails poured in from readers. My essay struck a chord. Friends texted me screenshots—my piece was trending on Apple News, Google News, and Yahoo News. I was astounded. People were connecting with Ana’s story, crying, and discovering Arkomo, her imaginative realm.

To date, I have received around 450 emails from readers. My editor informed me that as of last Sunday, the essay had garnered 2.3 million views. I’m unsure of the current total—perhaps 3 million? Maybe 4? Viral stories often fade quickly, and I’m at peace with that. It has been an intensely emotional week.

Readers shared their own experiences of grief and the loved ones they have lost—children, parents, partners, and friends. They expressed how my essay moved them to tears, recounted their own imaginary worlds, and mentioned how they would cherish their children more, influenced by Ana’s story. Many said they would honor Ana’s memory alongside me on the anniversary of her passing.

My heart feels full. I’ve spent the week responding to emails and expressing gratitude. I am determined to reply to everyone, if possible, though it may take some time.

Sharing our stories fosters connection, as my insightful friend Christopher Robin eloquently articulated in his recent writing. I’ve written about Ana extensively and published essays in various outlets, yet sometimes I overlook the profound impact that words can wield.

Writing is predominantly a solitary pursuit. Aside from initial comments when a piece is published or a few social media shares, silence envelops the writer. I remain unaware of readers' thoughts unless they share them with me.

Writing aids my processing of experiences. It helps me make sense of the world. It was my lifeline out of despair when I lost Ana, and it continues to guide me as I navigate my place in the world, connect with others, and recognize how grief—and my bond with Ana's spirit—evolves over time.

I had anticipated this piece might reach a few hundred or even a few thousand readers, but millions? That was beyond my imagination. I am profoundly grateful that Ana's story briefly appeared on countless screens, touching so many lives. I am honored that so many took the time to express how my narrative, and the world of Arkomo, resonated with them. I can’t help but feel that Ana played a role in guiding me this year. She adored Arkomo, small things, and the beauty of imaginative realms.

Ana wished for my happiness. She was concerned that I might struggle to move forward without her after her passing. "I don’t want them to sob in my empty room over all my things," she had penned in her diary. She wanted us to embrace life, all while understanding the difficulties that would arise, even as a 15-year-old.

While time does not heal this type of grief, it does offer a fresh perspective on loss. Sufficient time has passed for me to remember, joyfully, the miracle that was Ana's existence. My heartfelt thanks to everyone who has reached out over the years through comments, emails, and social media. I am immensely appreciative.

Chapter 2: The Power of Connection

The impact of storytelling can be profound, and sharing memories not only honors those we've lost but also unites us in shared experiences.