What happened, I think, was that the timing was just right. Or wrong, depending on how you look at it. It had been two years since Mark died. After two years of outbursts, alcohol poisoning, fights, flunking grades, sessions with the school counsellor, grief counselling with the school chapl...  read more

I felt prepared going in. I knew that Mark was dead. Sarah and I had gone with my parents to the funeral home to help to select the prayer cards, the casket, the urn. The funeral had been big empty sounds in a full Church. We had walked in behind the pallbearers as they silently moved the cas...  read more

It was a Wednesday. March 5, 1997. We had not gone to school on the Monday or Tuesday, because Mark was in the hospital. He had gone into the hospital on Sunday night. I suppose I should begin there. Almost 10 years later to the day, I met a woman named Jennifer Cull who saw Mark the day he got s...  read more