I buried my husband Johnny and my seven-year-old daughter Gemma on a heartbreaking Tuesday in Richmond. While I was drowning in grief, my parents Judith and Ricky were two thousand miles away, soaking up the sun in Aruba with my older brother Jared. Instead of coming to be with me, they sent a short text saying flights were too pricey and that my loss just wasn’t worth cutting their trip short. Watching their vacation photos flood social media while I buried my family broke something in me…. Continue Reading ⬇️
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