Painfully silent. Daniel’s photo sits on the mantel, and I light a candle beside it every evening. I thought I was trying to help, trying to hold onto what little remained of my son.
But in doing so, I lost the rest of his family too. Sometimes, late at night, I swear I still hear the echo of little footsteps in the hallway—and I realize that grief doesn’t just take people away. Sometimes, it takes everything else with it.
