“I read once that grief is like a box with a ball inside it,” he said. “Inside the box is a button, and when the ball hits the button, you feel the pain of your loved one’s loss.” She nodded. “At first, the ball is huge and hits the button all the time.” His hands flexed on the wheel. “But over time, the ball shrinks. It doesn’t hit the button as often.” He stopped at some lights and looked at her. “But every now and then, it still manages to hit that button, and it still hurts.”