Today I met a group of Mark's friends and we put up a cross at the site where his accident happened. I thought it would do something...make it real, bring me some peace...anything. But I just felt numb. Then something very strange happened. I left there and drove to pick up my son at a friend's house where he had spent the night. I had never met this boy's mother before. As I walked up to the house, I noticed a stone in the landscaping that said something about treasured memories of those we have lost, and, of course, I was crying when I rang the doorbell. I tried to pull it together and entered the house where I found the boys all having breakfast with who I assumed to be the their parents. Then the mother told me the man was her fiance. Her mother-in-law called then and I overheard her talking about a benefit walk they had just done for ALS. (And thinking mother-in-law? You aren't married yet.) When she hung up she told me that she lost her husband two years ago to ALS. What?!?!? Here she was happy, in love, planning a wedding, and chatting away with her late husband's mother. I couldn't get my head around it. Then she told me that she had spent a long time in a very dark place until she finally gave herself permission to live again. She met a wonderful man who loves her and who honors her late husband. It gave me some hope to see with my own eyes someone who has suffered the same pain as us and has somehow managed to find peace and happiness again. I know that kind of acceptance is a long way off for those of us whose pain is still so raw and fresh. But maybe, just maybe, there is peace to be found along this horrific journey.