By Ann, Virginia
Two months after my young husband translated (died), I was shopping in a department store with my eighteen-month-old son. I was not an ECKist at the time. When the shopping was finished, my son did not want to leave the store. He went into a temper tantrum, and I was beside myself.
My husband’s death had overwhelmed me. I was still deeply grieving, and even the simple task of taking my son out of the stroller and out of the store while he was screaming was a chore. My arms were laden with bundles, and I couldn’t figure out how to carry him too. It was too much. Read More