It's been more than nine months since my mother died, and today marks the five-month anniversary of my father's death. I am someone who doesn't like to say "passed away." Seriously, I don't like to mince words about it. My mother had cancer and died. My father's heart was broken, and he died four months after her death. I rarely say my parents died to people who don't know me well. I do say that I lost them much more often than I say passed away. It just seems more honest. I do miss them -- especially when I think about this being the first Christmas without them. A little over a year ago, my mom was telling me that she would be gone by this time last year. There was no miracle -- maybe because her whole life was one. And really, that's what all our lives are. When we look at babies and think about what incredible miracles they are, we have to remember that we, too, were someone's little miracle however many years ago.
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