“The daytime. The nighttime. Eating. Just lying here thinking. Nothing feels right. I keep waiting for her to come up the stairs and poke her head into our room and, you know, goof around with us.” “I know what you mean,” I said. “What do we do, Frank?” “I think we just keep going on. We keep doing what we always do and someday it’ll feel right again.” “Will it? Really?” “Yeah, I think so.”
