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Ten Things I Learned When My Daughter Died.

10. Death doesn't ask.  

What you'd prefer.  Who should go first.  When it will happen.  If you're ready or if you're willing or what you'd give instead.

9.  Life doesn't mind.

You've read her autopsy eleven times.  You're afraid to fall asleep and to wake up. Your hair is falling out and you've memorized crop circles on the ceiling and you haven't showered in five days.  You get up and you go to bed and she's not there.  You still have to pay the water bill.  

8.  The true meaning of the following words, in no particular order.

Difficult.  Helpless.  

Numb, Futile, Blind.
Jealousy.  Anxiety.  Insomnia.  
Beauty.  Horrific.  
Courage, Friendship.
 Plasticity.  Lost.

7.  Love conquers all. 

Even death.

6.  Some people can hang.

And some cannot.  

Call.  Hug.  Stay. 
Sit with you on the hospital bed.  On the hospital floor.  On the bedroom floor.  On the bathroom floor.  
Hold your daughter.  Wrap her in tiny blankets intently, softly.  Sing to her as if she …

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