Tatiana Schlossberg, Writer and Daughter of Caroline Kennedy, Dies at 35

Tatiana Schlossberg, an accomplished writer and the middle child of Caroline Kennedy and Edwin Schlossberg, has died at the age of 35.

Her death occurred on Tuesday, December 30, and was confirmed through the social media accounts of the JFK Library Foundation on behalf of her extended family.

“Our beautiful Tatiana passed away this morning. She will always be in our hearts,” the family wrote in a statement signed by George, Edwin and Josephine Moran, Ed, Caroline, Jack, Rose, and Rory.

Schlossberg’s passing comes just weeks after she publicly revealed her terminal cancer diagnosis in a deeply moving personal essay published in The New Yorker in November 2025.

A Devastating Diagnosis Discovered After Childbirth

In her essay, Schlossberg disclosed that she had been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia after doctors discovered the disease while she was hospitalized following the birth of her second child, a daughter.

At the time, Schlossberg and her husband, George Moran — whom she married in 2017 — were already parents to a young son.

“I did not — could not — believe that they were talking about me,” she wrote of the diagnosis. “I had swum a mile in the pool the day before, nine months pregnant. I wasn’t sick. I didn’t feel sick. I was actually one of the healthiest people I knew.”

The diagnosis required immediate chemotherapy and an intensive bone marrow transplant, launching months of grueling treatments, transfusions, and prolonged hospital stays.

A Family United by Love and Sacrifice

Throughout her illness, Schlossberg wrote candidly about the unwavering support of her family. Her parents, siblings, and husband remained by her side through every stage of treatment.

Her older sister Rose proved to be a full match for stem cell donation and became the donor for Schlossberg’s first transplant.

“My brother was a half-match, but he still asked every doctor if maybe a half-match was better, just in case,” she wrote.

She described her family’s quiet strength as one of the greatest gifts of her life.

“They have held my hand unflinchingly while I have suffered, trying not to show their pain and sadness in order to protect me from it,” Schlossberg wrote. “Even though I feel their pain every day.”

Carrying the Weight of Kennedy Family Tragedy

Schlossberg was deeply aware of the historic grief already borne by her family.

Her mother, Caroline Kennedy, was just five days shy of her sixth birthday when her father, President John F. Kennedy, was assassinated in Dallas. Decades later, Caroline lost her only living sibling, John F. Kennedy Jr., in a tragic plane crash.

In her essay, Schlossberg expressed heartbreak over adding another loss to that legacy.

“For my whole life, I have tried to protect my mother,” she wrote. “Now I have added a new tragedy to her life, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

A Willingness to Speak Truth — Even in Pain

Schlossberg did not shy away from difficult topics in her final months. In her essay, she sharply criticized her mother’s cousin Robert F. Kennedy Jr., particularly his role in public health policy while she was undergoing cancer treatment.

From her hospital bed, she watched decisions being made that she believed threatened scientific research and lifesaving medical access.

She wrote of the chilling realization that a medication which saved her life during a postpartum hemorrhage — also used in medical abortions — was under federal review.

“I freeze when I think about what would have happened if it had not been immediately available,” she wrote.

A Mother’s Greatest Fear

Above all else, Schlossberg’s writing returned again and again to her children.

After being told she had “a year, maybe,” to live, her first thought was not of herself — but of her children.

“My kids, whose faces live permanently on the inside of my eyelids, wouldn’t remember me,” she wrote.

She spoke with heartbreaking honesty about being unable to care for her newborn daughter due to infection risks after transplant treatments.

“I don’t know who she thinks I am,” she admitted. “And whether she will feel or remember, when I am gone, that I am her mother.”

A Life of Intellect, Purpose, and Environmental Advocacy

Schlossberg earned a bachelor’s degree in history from Yale University and a master’s degree in American history from the University of Oxford.

She was a passionate environmental writer and researcher, with plans underway for a major project focused on ocean conservation before her illness.

“My son knows that I am a writer and that I write about our planet,” she wrote. “I remind him so he will know I was not just a sick person.”

A Final Reflection on Memory and Love

In the final lines of her essay, Schlossberg reflected on memory, mortality, and the fragile act of staying present.

“Sometimes I trick myself into thinking I’ll remember this forever,” she wrote. “Obviously, I won’t. But I’ll keep pretending. I will keep trying to remember.”

Tatiana Schlossberg is survived by her husband George Moran, their two young children, her parents, siblings, and extended family.

Her voice — thoughtful, brave, and unflinchingly honest — leaves behind a legacy that will endure far beyond her years.