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

to twice instead of once. That’s why I noticed a refrigerator hum and a timestamp and a man counting months. That’s why the thing my daughter-in-law was most certain about, that a sixty-seven-year-old retired court reporter would not know what to do with a bag full of evidence, turned out to be the single worst assumption anybody ever made about me.continue reading …