There Was an Extra Place at the Table for My Late Husband—That’s When My Son Went Pale

by the lake. I could picture his hands opening it, sorting through the colorful hooks and weights, telling me stories about the fish he was going to catch.

But Robert’s hands had been cold and still for two years now. I’d held them in the hospital, felt the warmth leave them, watched as they placed his wedding ring in a plastic bag with his other belongings.continue reading …