After six weeks of sleepless nights, I Found a biker Crying at my son’s Grave…

Because I was angry.

The kind of anger that settles deep inside a grieving parent and refuses to leave.

Six weeks had passed since I buried my son.

Six weeks of sleepless nights.

Six weeks of staring at an empty bedroom.

Six weeks of wondering how a seventeen-year-old boy could be here one day and gone the next.

And through all of it, there was one person I blamed almost as much as fate itself.

Cade.