Chapter 5

My father came south for Lock’s funeral; he stayed for almost forty-eight hours. At the funeral home, he hugged Carla and whispered into her left ear, “You were a good mother. This isn’t your fault.” He whispered in my ear, “You were a loving and devoted father. Don’t blame yourself when destiny fucks you over.” And following the funeral, as expected, he fled north again, stunned by his grandson’s death, overwhelmed, changed, incapable of understanding the demise of an infant and the strength of a higher power called God.

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