He was 5. He Fought for 1,027 Days With a Smile. He Loved 'Chop Suey' and Demanded 'White Milk.' When We Lost Him, I Wasn't Afraid of Dying Anymore. I Was Terrified of Living. “Everyone is afraid of dying, until you lose a child… then you’re afraid of living.” I don’t know who said that, but those words have taken hold of me. They are my shadow. They are the air in my lungs. I just laid my five-year-old son, Bryson, to rest, and I am terrified of the silence. His trains are still on the track Se