Sometimes, in the afternoons, she would catch herself staring wistfully into the middle distance. Why did it have to be, she would ask herself? Then she would take a deep breath and throw herself into some analgesic housework, or perhaps she'd bake a cake. But a walk offered too much opportunity for remembering.
Her husband had struggled even more, and eventually, she'd lost him, too, unable to live in a home filled nowadays with only sadness and memories. She didn't blame him: no parent is ever prepared for the loss of a child.
At least she had a clean house.
Her husband had struggled even more, and eventually, she'd lost him, too, unable to live in a home filled nowadays with only sadness and memories. She didn't blame him: no parent is ever prepared for the loss of a child.
At least she had a clean house.
