There were still moments I missed my dad so much that it hurt, physically, like someone had punched me. There were moments that I got so angry, I was liable to snap at the wrong person, just to release some of the rage at the unfairness of it all. And there were days when I woke up with my eyes puffy and swollen from crying. But we—the four remaining members of the Edwards family—had somehow, against all odds, become okay with talking about our feelings. And on days when it was particularly bad, I knew that there were people I could turn to.