One Strong Girl

I wake up with a start. India is screaming. Giant cockroaches are coming to kill her. She’s shaking, her eyes round and huge. I don’t know what she’s talking about. I tell her she’s just having a bad dream. She clutches my arm, pulls me tightly. I tell her she’s okay, that I would never…

Featured Article: Today’s Parent

[Excerpt] My only child died, but I’ll always be a mother. I will always be India’s mother. But what does that mean now that she’s gone? 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…