“I’m still angry with you, but I’m less so now.” “What changed?” “I went to go visit your father at the cemetery.” You will not cry, I chant repeatedly, but my eyes won’t cooperate. “Spending time with him always calms me down.” I sniffle. My mom might be anxious, but at least she’s brave enough to stop by his grave, unlike me, who hasn’t since his wake. She continues, “If he were still here, he’d tell me to give Lorenzo a chance. He’d say that your happiness is more important than my anxiety about you dating someone like him.”
