. . . my 26 year old son John killed himself.
“She was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.”
—George Eliot
. . . my 26 year old son John killed himself.
“She was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.”
—George Eliot
