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Only there’s two sides to every story, you know. You just remember that. —Wally Lamb, She’s Come Undone
Small towns don’t forgive easily. Even when they do, they never forget.
Gretzky’s best quote, scrawled in Kyle’s sloppy middle school handwriting: You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.
“For Christ’s sake, Kyle. You know why.” His dad’s voice was a low growl, and that familiar look had slid into his eyes. The irritated-confused look, like Danny McCray couldn’t decide if his son was deliberately being obtuse, or if he was just stupid.
Such a familiar parenting feeling.
Coolio’s “Gangsta’s Paradise” is the best song to come along in my lifetime—
“Motherfuckers,” she said. Kyle’s forehead pulled up high in surprise. “Sorry,” she said, feeling a hot blush creep up her face. “Don’t be, they are motherfuckers. And you know how to throw that word down. Not everybody can pull it off.” “Thanks.”
“Give me a break, Casey. You spend twenty years with someone, just because you get divorced doesn’t mean you unknow them.”
when he spoke his voice cracked with emotion. “I miss him so much, Casey.” “Me too.”
Heartbreaking
Losing Charlie had created a chasm between them, and it was so dark and so wide and so bottomless they just couldn’t reach each other again.
He still remembered Todd’s response: Yeah, I know. But she has her heart set on it. Kyle said no more about it. He’d also been a man who liked to give his wife what she most wanted when he could. There was no feeling like it.
Angie had a strong radar for bullshit, and given the wariness in her eyes, she already suspected why he was there.
When the internal pain became more than he could bear, he’d look to off-load a bit of it on someone else.
It was hard to get through a hockey tournament in this part of the world without at least a few parents drinking too much and starting fights.
“I know I was never good enough at this, but I’ll try not to embarrass you.” She didn’t smile back, just tilted her head. “You never embarrassed me, Kyle. And you were always so much better than good enough.” There was a lot to unpack there.
That didn’t stop Charlie from calling out an enthusiastic “Mom” and giving her a hug when she walked up. She counted herself lucky. Unlike most of his male peers, Charlie hadn’t become self-conscious about that kind of thing. Kyle had never been shy about showing affection in public, even at the garage in front of his crew. Hopefully Charlie would follow his lead.
These were the things that haunted her, and she sat with them every morning while the crushing guilt settled in like an old friend. Not just guilt about what she should have done differently that day, but also guilt about all the times she hadn’t been the best mother. The times she’d gotten frustrated or raised her voice or said no when she could have said yes. This was what she did each and every morning. This was how she still dedicated herself to Charlie.
One thing she’d heard over and over again in group therapy: there was no timeline for grief, no getting over losing Charlie, only learning to live with it. This was how she lived with it. Her ritual. Recalling the details, running through the questions. Making the pain greater because pain sharpened the mind and the senses, which kept her from forgetting.
“Sometimes you’ve taken all the shots you can,” he said. “And then it’s time to let someone else carry the puck for a while.”
“Casey, you can’t let the grief consume all the good—what you and Kyle gave him, what you all had together. The rest of your life shouldn’t be about how Charlie died. It should be about how he lived.”
Pain and happiness weren’t mutually exclusive, they could coexist in the same moment, in the same memory.
“You know, I think that’s how grief works. You have to feel it so you can heal it, not bury yourself in it. You get through it, and each time it’s a little less.
“Okay?” Kyle asked. “Okay.” She smiled,
My heart! So many emotions in such a short exchange.
