He sat with his wife’s photo, waiting for a son who had already boarded without him

I’ll remember the rest for you.”

We buried him under the oak tree behind June’s house—his favorite spot. The ceremony was small, just June, a few neighbors, and me. I didn’t invite my parents, not out of anger.

But out of clarity. They hadn’t been part of his final chapter. They didn’t earn a place in its closing.

But a week later, I went back to Omaha.continue reading …