Writing Her Life Through My Eyes was never simply about writing—it was about survival and love after the unimaginable loss of my daughter. When she died, my world shattered. Time lost its meaning, and life felt empty. Yet, in the quiet aftermath, I felt a pull—not toward closure, but toward connection and remembrance. I wanted to honor her life in a way that might comfort others who are navigating their own grief.

This book emerged from that journey. It’s a mosaic of memories, reflection, and raw truths; a tribute to my daughter’s radiant spirit and the unbreakable bond we shared. Storytelling became my lifeline. In the earliest days, I could hardly speak, let alone write. The pain was overwhelming. But memories kept resurfacing—her laughter, her smile, her favorite clothes, the way she could light up any room, her fierce love, and the phone call that changed everything. I remembered the long, silent drive to California and the slow return of reality through the haze of shock.

Gradually, these fragments formed a living portrait of her essence. Writing became a way to revisit places we’d shared: the beach, the kitchen, car rides filled with music and laughter, and even the challenging moments between a mother and a teenager. Each memory was a thread I wove into this tribute. Some days, the grief was too heavy to write, but I pressed on - for her, for the legacy she left, and for those who would remember her.

The memoir became a space for reflection, sometimes bringing tears, sometimes a sense of her presence. I learned that peace is not a destination but a practice. I honored my grief, sought solace in nature, and created rituals—planting trees with pink flowers, designing a memorial sticker inspired by Tinkerbell, and creating spaces of remembrance. Peace arrived in small moments and in the act of transforming pain into words.

This book is for other parents who have lost children and for anyone who has felt the ache of absence. Grief is not linear; it’s messy and deeply human, yet within it lies beauty and resilience. Through this journey, I’ve learned how legacy is built in small acts—speaking her name, recalling her favorite places, and carrying her forward in love and memory. Thank you for allowing my daughter’s story to touch your heart; I hope these pages bring you comfort and inspire hope.