My thirteen-year-old son Owen drowned in a lake last month during a fishing trip with my husband

I could not get through a full sentence without collapsing, and there is a particular grief that comes with that — the grief of missing even your own child’s service because you are not strong enough to be present for it.

When I came home, I went to Owen’s room and I stayed there.

Charlie went back to work.

Not immediately — but within two weeks, he continue reading …