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

can’t be—”

“Mom,” Michael said, reaching for my hand, but I yanked it away.

“You let me bury him,” I said, my voice rising to something close to a scream. “There was a funeral. There was a casket. I stood there and I—” My voice broke completely. “I put flowers on a grave, Michael. Every month for two years, I drove to the cemetery and put flowers on continue reading …