"I need to talk to you if you're his mother," the message read. "Please give me a call tomorrow." I sat on a step-ladder in the garage to make the call because the house was full of people, and I wanted to be able to hear. I had been working on Timothy's obituary around the clock, but I was glad to take a break to connect with one of his friends. I wanted to meet the people who shared Timothy's life and hear them tell their stories. I didn't know my step-ladder would become H

Back when the Allisons had a houseful of little kids, bedtime occurred in “stages.” First, they lined up for vitamins, then everyone got...