On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey
On October 22 , 2008, I walked off the school bus to find my mom waiting for me in the driveway. “Angie died in the hospital last night.”
The words hit me like a baseball bat to the gut. Yet they weren’t real. Almost five years later, they still don’t feel real.
This is an exploration of loss, grief, and hope. This is an attempt to pick up the pieces and make sense of it all.
Spring 2013, New Jersey