I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that once in a while I woke up and my parents’ death hit me all over again. Sometimes I ached to sit down and drink tea with my mom again, or hear my dad laugh just one more time. But in interacting with the long-lived Drakes, I’d come to understand that grief never disappeared. It just faded slowly, bit by bit. One day I’d be able to think of my parents without wanting to cry, and for now, that was good enough.
