Linda and I went to the cemetery today to visit Daniel’s grave. I sat in the truck as I am unable to walk up the small hill on the thick grass without fear of falling down. Daniel is buried about 100 feet from the road. Linda went and stood there for a while. This was a good thing because I believe she needed some time alone with our son. She came back to the truck and we held each other while we cried. Although the pain of our loss has begun to subside, we have moments when it hits us again that our son is gone from this world; out of reach. Gone is his presence, his largeness of life, his dry sense of humor and his gentleness which he attempted to hide under a rough exterior. These moments of sadness hit us without expectation. When they come to me, I cry for a bit and then get myself under control. Last week, I opened a drawer and there was a picture of him on top that I had put in there and forgotten. Certain songs get me. One of these is a Don Williams song titled, “If Hollyw