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.

At first, the parent questioned their own reaction. Was this simply the mind trying to fill an absence that could never truly be filled? Grief has a way of projecting memories onto the present, blending what was with what could have been. But the feeling persisted. Each time they saw the boy—playing outside, laughing, growing—the resemblance seemed just as strong.

Memories long tucked away began to resurface. The sound of a child’s voice, the imagined changes that come with age, the small details that only a parent remembers—all of it came rushing back. What had once been distant now felt immediate again.