During Robert’s Funeral, My Sons Stood By The Casket With Dry Eyes And Perfect Black Suits…

On opening day, Robert walked with his arm linked through mine. He was still weak, but stubborn.

“Do you think Lucy would be happy?” he asked.

I looked at an elderly woman with a walker enjoying rice pudding, a retired gentleman adjusting his cap, and two older women laughing while learning how to use a smartphone. “Yes.”

“And our sons?” “They confused continue reading …