Each year, my son planted sunflowers in memory of his twin sister who passed away—then one morning, we discovered them all cut down, with a white box left behind.

ruined garden, clutching the photograph to his chest like it was a doorway back to his sister.

And I cried too.

Because for one brief, foolish, beautiful moment, I wanted to believe him.

A House Full of Hope and Fear

Patrick carried the photograph everywhere.

To the kitchen.

To the hallway.

To the porch steps.

He held it like it might vanish if he set it down.continue reading …