I Prayed for a Miracle, Now I Lock My Door Against My Son

Tuesday.

I stared at the dent in my bedroom door.

And then, without warning, I started to cry—ugly, full-bodied sobs that felt like they’d been waiting for years.

Not because he was gone.

Because for the first time since the accident, I was alone.

And the loneliness felt like mercy.

At the hospital, they put Tyler behind a locked door and put me in a plastic continue reading …