David Smith sits on a brown couch in his living room, cradling a framed photo of his two young sons. He dabs his eyes with his fingers and abruptly excuses himself to go to the bathroom, emerging minutes later with his face flushed and streaked with tears.
Smith struggles to imagine that his sons would be in their 30s now. In his mind, they’re still the toddlers in the photograph – Michael with his bowl cut, Alex with his round cheeks – tinkering with miniature monster trucks and watching “Mrs. Doubtfire” together on the couch.
