Her son passed. Then her husband. Later, her father. Another son was a victim of cancer. Her granddaughter moved countries, with the two kids who once brought joy, messiness, laughs, and love to the house. A house that once held many, now only had her.

But she didn't succumb. She leaned more into herself. She created even more. Art, expositions, music, friendships. All the things she had already done, she did even more. The house is now full — not with people, but with the love everyone left.