In the end, Jason agreed to the thinkbot treatment. His mom drove him out to the local nature preserve—a good spot, she said, to start things fresh.

My grandfather died alone and afraid. Neither are surprising. He lived alone because he was afraid; he died in fear because he was alone.

Mom prayed for every bug Dad squashed. A whole three minutes, head bowed and everything. As soon as she finished, she’d do the sign of the cross.

When I miss him, I tell myself I’ll work up the courage to ask the stars where my husband’s ended up.