The night my 12-year-old son came home from his best friend’s funeral, he didn’t speak a word. He just sat on the floor, clutching a worn baseball glove like it was the only thing holding him together. I had no idea that grief would become a mission… and that mission would change lives.
Sometimes the world doesn’t care how hard you try. Sometimes it just takes. We moved into my sister’s apartment, her pullout couch barely fitting all three of us. We dealt …
The night my 12-year-old son came home from his best friend’s funeral, he didn’t speak a word. He just sat on the floor, clutching a worn baseball glove like it was the only thing holding him together. I had no idea that grief would become a mission… and that mission would change lives. Read More