On September 17 2018, the life of my daughter, Sydney Paige Archant, nee Archibald, ended. My beautiful, bold little girl found pleasure in so many things in her life - her horses, her profession, her friends and family, her pets, food & drink (especially in San Francisco).

But she also had many problems & traumas. First was my separation from the family. In my hubris, I believed I could still maintain a "normal" relationship with Sydney. I failed to anticipate the severe degree that departure would affect her. Her acting out during her middle teens that lead her mother & I to decide she needed a more controlled boarding school existence in order to guarantee her safety from her own actions. And finally, all her maladies & afflictions these past years. A broken back, a broken coccyx, her foot being run over by a car, and a long list of illness that seemed to defy analysis regarding their cause, but most of which seemed to be auto-immune in nature. Despite all this, she remained hopeful & strong.

Despite the broken back, she ended her first year of law school first in her class in almost everything. Despite her broken coccyx, she graduated from Boalt School of Law in Berkeley while also being an editor of their International Law Review. And she married Geoff Cant. Despite her injuries, she continued to work in her chosen profession in her chosen field of expertise. It was all a magical success for her.

The cause of her death has not yet been determined. We are awaiting the final Coroner's report. In the end, it doesn't matter the cause - she is simply gone.

It's difficult to explain how much this has affected me. I always had faith that Sydney was smart enough and strong enough to ultimately overcome any challenge she faced. I've had that faith since she was a small child. This is a pain that will never go away, and never lessen. It can be hidden, encapsulated the way the body will form a cyst around a foreign object - but periodically that cyst explodes and all the horrible feelings come rushing out again. While I still can find pleasures in life, they are now diminished - colors are greyer, laughter is less loud, food is blander, each day begins with less enthusiasm. There are some tragedies in life, from which recovery is not possible. Time will not be a friend to me.

Ever since her troubles began, I've had these dual images of my lovely, vivacious daughter in my mind. One has her laughing, with her boldly colored hair, and a rainbow-colored outfit. The other is a small bird, on the ground in a large meadow. One wing is broken, and with the other, the little bird is trying valiantly to return to the freedom of the sky, and the safety of its home in the forest.

My poor little bird - I feel so sad for you...