We can’t wait to read this!
I sat in the front row of the church with my left hand locked tightly into my mother’s, my right hand locked tightly into my best friend’s, and a small book tucked under my arm. I listened intently as person after person stood to read scriptures or offer words of comfort. Each person stopped in front of me, dabbed their red, swollen eyes as they gave me hugs and kisses, and offered me condolences. Like a robot, I automatically thanked each and every one of them and smiled as best I could.
My mother stood and approached the podium. She gave a beautiful eulogy; she summarized the ten short years of her grandson’s life better than anyone else could, including me. She told a few stories about the love between my sweet boy and me. Some even I had forgotten. She broke down a few times as she spoke…
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