I wanted her to always have everything so good and so perfect. I knew it wasn’t realistic

A year later I held my first baby, a beautiful, delicate little girl. Of course, I named her Shani after my mother.

Shani was a pure joy to raise. She was charming and obedient. She was helpful at home, and got good grades. She had a sparkle in her eyes and a bounce in her step.

My other children followed in quick succession. Each one was a treasure. Each one brought us so much joy. But Shani… well, she was my oldest, and she carried my mother’s name. And that was always how I would introduce her. “This is Shani, named after my mother.”

My husband Cheski would tease me that I definitely played favorites. I would laugh and deny the accusation. But I knew that he might be right.

It’s hard to explain the feeling or gratitude and relief that I had when she made it through tenth grade and she still had a mother. Perhaps it was a bit morbid. But I couldn’t help but remember what I went through each year of my own childhood as she went through hers. I was so happy to see her go through school without the trials that I had. And all I wanted was for her to continue to sail through life.

I wanted her to always have everything so good and so perfect. I knew it wasn’t realistic. The most I could have hoped for was that Chesky and I give her the tools that would help her get through the ups and downs that life brings.