My monster, you see, is the lingering doubt that if I had made a single decision differently at four in the morning on a Monday almost six years ago, my daughter Hudson might still be alive today.

I did get the chance to say goodbye to my mom and spend time with her.

My father died—from a cancer that could have been prevented. In fact, the majority of skin cancer is preventable.​

When something feels wrong, it usually is.

The condemnation of abortion under any circumstance, which has once again played such an influential part in the outcome of our recent presidential election, pushes grief and depression into dangerous black spots.

But it’s okay to live when our children do not. It’s okay for us to find purpose and happiness again.

“He is on a planet just for dogs, called Dog Planet,” my husband and I both say.