I laid my husband Johnny and my seven year old daughter Gemma to rest on a deeply sorrowful Tuesday in Richmond. While I faced the unbearable weight of my grief, my parents Judith and Ricky were two thousand miles away enjoying a sunny vacation in Aruba with my older brother Jared. Instead of standing by my side, they sent a brief message explaining that flights were too expensive and my loss was not important enough to interrupt their trip. Seeing their social media posts celebrating family life on a pristine beach left me completely shattered.

In the days following the funeral, my local community stepped in to provide the support my own family withheld. Johnny was mourned deeply by his colleagues, and my kind neighbor Mrs. Forbes brought me warm meals to ensure I was eating. My pastor also offered gentle comfort, reminding me that I did not need to carry this burden alone. Unfortunately, being strong was a role forced upon me since childhood, as I had always been the one responsible for managing my family and fixing their endless financial mistakes.

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