Joe and I are celebrating our 8th wedding anniversary. Thinking back to that day, we didn’t imagine this is the path our lives would take. With our friends and families looking on and the gentle crash of the ocean waves in the background, we vowed to each other “for better or for worse”. We didn’t think that the “worse” would include the death of our child. As we looked out over the water, we never would have thought that we’d return six years later to release our daughter’s ashes there. As we stood there and exchanged rings, we didn’t picture ourselves later standing at the site of the stone that bears her name, birth date and death date, holding on to each other. Holding each other up. And it’s strange to think that the spot where we celebrated with family and friends, would later become the place where we once again joined together to celebrate a beautiful life. In our lives, just as in our travels, the seas haven’t always been calm. There have been dark days. Rough waters. And there has been beauty—so much beauty. Sometimes intertwined. Our love remains as deep as it was that day on the beach when we promised we’d stay together no matter what life tossed our way. When doubt creeps in, we cling to each other. When I’ve been too weak to stand, he’s held me up. Some love stories seem to be the perfect fairy tale. Ours may not look that way on paper, but despite all the pain, all the hurt we face now, I think our love story is pretty remarkable. Our daughter was created out of our love. She was a beautiful child, a beautiful life, a beautiful soul. It’s certainly not the life we dreamed. But here we are.