I have felt and understood the meaning of this phrase many times, in both good and not so good stages of life. But never have these words had a more profound meaning than now as I try to carry on living without my daughter. Living in the moment has become a necessity to survive.

I feel like I did at the beginning...lost, angry, sad beyond belief. This is an article I wrote back then that resonates to me loudly today.

There is no process for grieving. There is no right way to grieve. Here are some things that helped me through that first week after our daughter died.

Thinking about funeral arrangements and how to do them is really the last thing you want to think about when your child dies. Logically, you know it has to be done. Emotionally, you are crippled. Here are a few things that worked for us.

In the early days after your child dies, it can be quite clear to the outside world what stage of grief you are in - shock, anger, etc. But as times passes, they see us functioning again, maybe even having a laugh. Do they think we're "over it"? We learn to hide our grief behind a mask.

Whether it's been a week, a month, or a year, no day is different than the next. They are all grueling.

Trying to go back to familiar places or to redo some of the same activities is heart wrenching. You never know which place or activity is going to trigger a memory and if it does, how poignant will it be?

November is Pulmonary Hypertension Awareness Month.

Am I on the “right” track with my grieving process or am I so far gone in my thinking that I will never survive this? Do others feel the same or am I alone in my grief? Should I reach out for support?

My surviving daughter has only known life with her big sister. Her big sister was her life’s buffer and safety net. Her big sister was a playmate, a confidante, a best friend, a late night bad dream soother. What must it be like for a surviving sibling? And how can we, her parents help her?