seat his difficult uncle.
The next, I was identifying Adrian’s belongings.
The crash was so severe that we buried him in a closed casket.
At the funeral, I stood beside his mother, Colleen, holding her hand as Adrian was lowered into the ground.
She squeezed my fingers until they hurt.
Neither of us said much.
There was nothing useful to say.
Afterward, people approached me quietly.
They hugged me, told me Adrian loved me, and promised time would make things easier.
I nodded because I had no idea what else
