Six months ago, my daughter and her husband died in a plane crash. At 71, I became the guardian of their four children. Then a huge package arrived, containing a letter from my late daughter.
It revealed a truth she had carried to the grave and changed everything I believed about her final days. My name is Carolyn. I’m 71, and six months ago, my life split into before and after.
My daughter, Darla, and her husband were flying to another city for a work trip. They left their four children with me for the weekend. The plane never made it.
Engine failure. No survivors. Just like that, they were gone.
I became both mother and grandmother to four children who didn’t understand why their parents weren’t coming home. Lily was nine. Ben was seven.