I was feeding my 5-month-old baby on a plane when the woman beside me yelled, “Have some shame! Go do that in the bathroom!” — then my older daughter stepped in and teached her a lesson
A month earlier, I had stood beside a grave and watched the man I had planned to grow old with disappear beneath the ground.
My husband, Dean, was only thirty-eight.
Less than a year before that, he had been complaining about a pain he thought was nothing. A pulled muscle, maybe. Stress. Too many late nights at work.