My son passed away at 16. My husband, Sam, never shed a tear. Our family drifted apart and we eventually divorced. Sam remarried and 12 years later, he too passed away. A few days later, his wife came to see me. She said, “It’s time you know the truth. Sam had …”She placed a small wooden box in my hands. It was worn, the edges smooth as if it had been opened many times. Inside were dozens of envelopes, each one sealed carefully with my son’s name written across the front.
