Then she handed me a small, worn notebook – Sam’s personal journal. Within its pages were letters to our son, reflections on grief, and thoughts he had never voiced. As I read them, the weight of my long-held pain began to ease. I realized that grief manifests differently for everyone, and sometimes the quietest souls carry the deepest love. In that moment, something within me shifted, and I felt a sense of peace I had been longing for since the day we lost him.
