My Neighbor Knocked in the Rain and Told Me to Take My Granddaughter Across the Street—From His Window, I Watched My Own Son Enter My House

Age makes some emotions heavier and others lighter.

I wondered whether he remembered the garage after Camille’s funeral.

Whether he remembered looking into my face and placing responsibility for her death there.

I hope he did.

Not because I wanted him tortured by guilt.

Because accountability requires memory.

Then I thought about Camille.

I still speak to her sometimes.