I Cried at My Daughter’s Grave Every Sunday for a Month – Then the Cemetery Groundskeeper Told Me, ‘Please Don’t Cry. You Don’t Know the Whole Truth About Your Daughter’

I knelt at Maya’s grave and whispered the same thing.

« I’m sorry, baby. I should have picked you up. »

Jordan came with me twice. After that, he stopped.

« It isn’t healthy, Jackie, » he said that morning while I stood by the door with the roses. « You can’t keep doing this. »

« I’m her mother. »

« Then act like it. Stop falling apart every Sunday. »

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