Seven Years After My Daughter’s Funeral, I Followed Her Husband to a Rehabilitation Center—And Saw a Woman I Thought Was Dead

She’d grown taller.

Her hair changed.

Her face changed.

She had new teachers, friends, interests, and habits.

The woman at Havenwood knew her daughter existed.

But she couldn’t simply recover seven missed years by looking at a photograph.

I reached across the table.

“You don’t have to make your mother remember everything.”