The Morning After My Son’s Funeral, an Airport Worker Called and Said, “Your Son Checked In”

So I went to bed.

I lay there in the dark for four hours without sleeping. And around two in the morning I got up, took the recorder out to my truck, and locked it in the toolbox bolted to the bed, along with the passport and the cash and the accountant’s folder.

Then I went back inside, made coffee at four thirty like I always do, and when Tara came continue reading …