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“One of the hardest things about losing my mom at a young age was that everyone else seemed to still have their moms. That feeling of isolation lasted beyond the initial shock and heartache of losing her, and it became even more difficult after I had my own daughter. It felt so cruel that they would never get to know each other. When I was pregnant, I’d often wonder if my baby would look like her. I secretly hoped that my child’s arrival would, in some way, bring my own mother back. Then my daughter was born—with sparkly blue eyes and strawberry blond hair. She was lovely, but she didn’t look a thing like my mom (or me, for that matter). She didn’t really act like her, either. But that was okay! She is an entirely different person, after all.” — Liz Climo