I showed up at the hospital to surprise my husband during his shift. But the second one of his coworkers saw me, all the color left his face. Then his eyes filled with tears. “He hasn’t said a word to you, has he?” Ben and I had been married eleven years, and for every one of those years, I had shared him with the hospital. He was a remarkably gifted surgeon.

In Loving Memory of Lucas Daniel Ortiz.

Ortiz, again.

I sat on the cold concrete of our garage floor, staring at that boy’s bright face until my eyes stung with tears I wouldn’t let fall.

At six that evening, the familiar hum of Brian’s engine came rumbling up the driveway.

I stood by the kitchen island while our daughter, Emma, sat upstairs in her room finishing her reading homework.

“Evening, gorgeous.”