Today E’s son would have turned 35, a year younger than my own son.  Her son died when he was four, after an unendurable, brutal disease.  No one was there for her.  I can’t imagine going through that, on top of all the other extreme losses.  The grieving never eases.  We paid another visit to his grave in Xenia, the city that was practically wiped off the map in the famous tornado disaster.  It never really recovered.  A sad place, in every way.  Complete with the liquor store directly across from the cemetery entrance, which says it all.