We made a little stop.

We knew we couldn’t not stop. How could we not? But it was hard and weird and humbling and worth it.

Our son took to testing the strength of the head stones, and we tried to take comfort in noticing he wasn’t the only kid with this idea. Andrew, a compadre in curiosity, would likely chuckle at something like this. Our daughter wanted to leave him a note with a drawing even though it would become soggy and reduced to litter overnight. I’ve learned to go with these things because it’s part of the lesson.

Theirs or mine? That’s the part that is never quite clear.

There were lots of questions and we tried to answer them. Even though we’d been through as many details of Andrew’s death as we knew, the facts remain important to them because things need to make sense. This is hard when facts don’t always add up to sense.

Row upon row. Good people who were selfless in a way that few of us are.

Do we get it? I know some of us do and too many of us don’t.

I hope you take some time to think about it. It’s hard and weird and humbling and worth it.