When I saw the strings of chewed up spinach tangled in the shower drain my instinct of silence set in. My mind along with my body went numb. Wearing rubber gloves, I picked out the spinach, flushed it down the toilet, and scrubbed the tub clean – erasing all physical evidence of Sasha’s sorrow. Within a few hours Sasha’s sorrow was mine. At first, a quiet whimper emitted from my closed throat, followed by loose tears streaking down my face, then accompanied by uncontrollable wails that so frightened me that I tried to muffle my cries with a towel. As I sit on my couch about to lose myself in…