He shrugs. I don’t know. He seems extra happy. You’re lucky. My dad’s sad all the time. Michael shakes his head. I don’t feel lucky. I feel bad because I’m not happy all the time like he is. Like I’m supposed to be. He always wants to do something like throw a football or play Frisbee or go bowling and sometimes I just don’t want to do that stuff because I’m sad.
How is he grieving?
