Fulfilling Sana’s Wish: A New Chapter in Her Memory

Fulfilling Sana’s Wish: A New Chapter in Her Memory “Mom, why don’t you become a counselor?” Sana said this to me more than once. She’d often overhear my conversations—when I was mentoring a student, offering emotional support to a friend, or simply holding space for someone going through a hard time. She had this way of observing people quietly, and she would notice the way others opened up to me, how I would listen and respond with empathy and calm. “You understand people, Mom. You make them feel heard,” she would say. She truly believed I had the ability to help others carry their burdens. And yet, despite those words, I could not be the mentor she needed me to be. Not because I didn’t try—but because sometimes, loving someone so fiercely makes it hard to see clearly. You’re too close, too emotionally invested, and every decision you make is tinged with fear and hope and helplessness. I supported Sana with every fiber of my being, but I still carry the ache of wondering if I could have done more. There is no manual for parenting a child struggling with mental health challenges. There’s no way to prepare for the quiet pain, the days of withdrawal, the confusion, or the desperate search for the right words. I walked with her through so much, but grief has a cruel way of replaying the moments when you stumbled. After she passed, her words stayed with me like a whisper I couldn’t ignore: “Become a counselor. At first, I dismissed it. The weight of grief was too heavy to carry anything else. But over time, that whisper became a pull. Not just to honor Sana’s faith in me, but to fulfill something she saw before I did—a way I could still make a difference. So I finally did it. I applied to a professional mental health coach certification program. And I got in. It wasn’t easy. Even opening the application brought up so much—memories, guilt, longing, fear. But also love. A deep, steady love for Sana and for the countless others who are struggling silently, just like she did. My goal now is to become a certified mental health coach and offer the kind of support I know my daughter would have wanted the world to receive: gentle, nonjudgmental, rooted in compassion. This path won’t bring her back. But it brings me closer to the version of myself she believed in. It gives her voice another way to exist in this world—through every conversation I have, every person I hold space for, every soul I try to uplift. In many ways, this is Sana’s dream. I’m just walking it forward. And if I can help even one person feel less alone, less misunderstood—then maybe, just maybe, I’m giving Sana’s spirit the legacy it deserves.