“When I was a little boy and my father passed away, my mother explained death to me. She said my father’s spirit had taken wings like a butterfly and left his body. Just like the butterfly leaves its cocoon. She said his soul had been set free.” He pauses and kisses the back of my head. “What a beautiful way to teach a child about death. You were lucky to have such a wonderful mother,” I tell him, my hand rubbing over his arm lovingly. “I was fortunate. I’ve had a beautiful life.”
