Tablet Magazine

My sister Claire died of bone cancer when she was 12 and I was 16. At the cemetery, which was on the far side of a wildlife preserve that bordered the western part of our Connecticut property, my mother, holding me close to her while I sobbed away, was stoic. My father wept inconsolably, and continued to do so, intermittently, when friends and family came to our home to comfort us during the week of shiva.

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