Last year, I exp... I lost... I experienced a loss. I lost... I lost my son. He was just... he went into a hamburger joint and someone came, a hold-up man, and shot him. I can't go to dinner with people. I can't... can't talk to their little boys. You have to stop asking me. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I'm just not up to this. Do you hear? Every day, I tell myself it's time to be getting over this - I know that people expect it of me. But if anything I'm getting worse. The first year was like a bad dream; I was there at his bedroom door in the morning before I'd remember he wasn't there to be wakened. The second year is real. I've stopped going to his door. I've sometimes let a whole day go by without thinking about him. I believe Sarah thinks I could have prevented what happened somehow - she's so used to my arranging her life. Now I'm far from everyone. I don't have any friends anymore. And everyone looks trivial and foolish, and not related to me.