''I have already told you about going to my grandfather's,'' I told him, ''But this is what happened after we arrived.
AGE 8
We shared a bed in a spare room that night, and in the middle of the night, I heard my mother crying again, so I turned over and hugged her, hoping my little arms would soothe her, but nothing helped, so I just let her cry herself dry and she passed out again.
The first month after my dad and brother died was a blur. My mom barely spoke, whereas before she was always so bubbly and the life of any room she entered.
I often found her crying or just staring out the window, a shell of herself, due to her grief. She stopped laughing, she barely ate, and for the past week, she hadn't even bathed. The laugh lines around her eyes, the ones daddy used to kiss, began to fa
