Mom called me at work today, completely out of sorts. She is going through the usual motions of the holiday--shopping, wrapping, cooking, all while caring for grandchildren left in her care while their parents are at work. Ordinarily this is all good, as it keeps her busy and distracts her from thinking about the elephant in the room. Except today, she was stricken with grief and sadness, and while on the phone she broke down in tears. She explained that it was hard for her to see other families in tact enjoing the holiday. Ours is broken. That is our reality.
Mom held Jim while he was dying in her arms at the base of the driveway where he finally fell to the ground. She and Dad were trying to save him while the gunman stood over them pointing a gun at Jim. He said "you're all done, Jimmy". This was the last time they saw their son alive.
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