My son was gone. Rachel and my oldest grandson, Sam.. just eight years old — hadn’t made it either.
Only Emily survived.
She was five years old.
My son was gone.
I remember sitting in that ER hallway.
Emily had a concussion, broken ribs, and bruises from the seatbelt so deep they looked black under the fluorescent lights. She didn’t speak much.
The doctors said trauma had fogged her memory. Just « confusion » and « fragments. » Best not to force anything. Let it come back naturally — or not at all.
So I didn’t push.
I became her guardian overnight. I went from being a grieving father to a full-time stand-in parent at 50 with no warning.
She didn’t speak much.
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