I buried my son 10 years ago — when I saw my new neighbors’ son, I could have sworn he looked like my son would look if he were alive today.

Grief has a way of reshaping time. For one parent, the loss of a son ten years ago was a moment that never truly passed—it simply settled into daily life, quiet but ever-present. The years moved forward, but the memory of what might have been remained vivid: birthdays uncelebrated, milestones imagined, a future that existed only in thought.