Mature and wise beyond her age, she was my best friend "in the whole wide world," as she used to say; my soul mate.

Gili means "be joyous," and "my joy," in Hebrew. I named her "Gili" before she was born, and she lived up to her name. Gili grew up to become a brilliant student, a gifted artist, a fine athlete, and most important, a loving, kind, gentle, sweet, sensitive and compassionate person.

Gili was a loving daughter, sister, granddaughter and friend. Parents and teachers used to tell me that Gili brings in light when she walks into a room. One of her teachers told me that a child like Gili makes her believe that there is a God. Parents used to ask me to send Gili over to their houses because she had a good influence on their children. Gili wanted to become a child psychologist so she could help children. Her heart went out to the weak and needy.

All this promising life came to a sudden end when a speeding drunk driver drove straight into the back seat of Gili's stepfather's car. Although Gili was buckled up with a seat belt, the impact of the collision threw her out of the car through the rear window. Gili suffered severe head and internal injuries. This happened on December 29, 1989, at the entrance to our house. She died five days later. Gili was only 11 years old. Her killer was never punished. Gili's death put an end to my life as I knew it until then. It brought on a life-long suffering and grieving. Four years after Gili's death, her stepfather, Norman Kagan died of a broken heart and of lung cancer.

More about Gili, my experience and understanding of parental grief and mourning in - Gili's Book, A Journey Into Bereavement for Parents and Counselors.