« You said so last time, and I got nothing. »
Abby died the night Grace was born.
The doctors saved the baby, but they couldn’t save my girl. That was the sentence I still couldn’t say out loud without my voice giving out.
My daughter also left behind Dolly and Sophie. And Derek, the girls’ father, hadn’t been much help afterward.
Three weeks after the funeral, I found my granddaughters alone outside my house with the newborn crying.
That was the sentence I still couldn’t say out loud.
My so called son in law sent one text message: « This life wasn’t for me. I’m sorry. »
Then he simply disappeared.
I got legal guardianship the following spring. The paperwork was a mountain, but my neighbor drove me, sat with me, and told me I was doing the right thing. Some days I believed her.
He simply disappeared.
