On the Morning of My Son’s Wedding, Our Family Driver Locked Me in the Trunk and Covered Me With a Blanket

healed — that would take much longer — but lighter. He was sleeping through the nights now. He had started therapy. He was talking about the future in ways that included himself in it.

“How are you really doing?”

He sat down, answering honestly. “Some days are harder than others. But I’m okay. I’m taking it slowly. Rebuilding.”

He paused. “Dad would be continue reading …