I buried my son ten years ago – when I saw my new neighbors’ boy, I was certain he looked exactly like mine would have if he were still alive today.

like that wound tore open all over again.

The grief of losing a child never goes away.

For years after Daniel died, I still turned my head when I heard boys laughing down the street.

I still expected, for half a second, to hear a ball bouncing in the driveway.

I was advised to have more kids. “It will help ease the pain a little,” I was told, but I didn’t continue reading …