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

animal and raw—and collapsed against him. He caught me the way he’d always caught me, arms wrapping around me, one hand in my hair, murmuring apologies into my ear that couldn’t possibly be enough.

I cried against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him, breathing in that aftershave I’d smelled when I walked in, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing.continue reading …