Nearly 8 years ago, I wrote in real-time the experiences I had with the death of my youngest son, Gabriel. I uploaded our story in pieces, linking one to the next. I put them all together here so readers don't have to go searching bit by bit. This story mirrors that of our firstborn, his big brother Samuel, who would be turning 14 this year had he come home. I did not write as in depth as I did with Gabriel and he has his own story I wrote from memory that I'll link here. For those who read this, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you taking the time to do so. Even nearly 8 and 14 years later, I can still hear the sounds Sam made. I can still see Gabriel's raised eyebrows. I can still smell their newborn smells and feel the weight of each of them in my arms. They were a very real part of my life, and my prayer is that in my writing, they are real for you, too. When you see a "................." it's a former break in the story. The verb tenses are so...