Ari Daniel

Stephon Alexander didn't always love music. When he turned 8, his grandmother, who was from Trinidad, forced him to take piano lessons in the Bronx. His teacher was, in a word, strict. "It felt like a military exercise to rob me of my childhood," Alexander recalls.

Several years went by like that. Until one day when Alexander's dad brought home an alto sax he found at a garage sale. "That became my toy. Music no longer for me was this regimented tedium," he says.

The death of a child is a profound loss, and how parents grieve is often deeply personal. So personal that what comforts one parent may disturb the other.

Within two days of moving into her new home in southwestern Connecticut, Floribeth Roman filled the place with photos. More than 80 photos are on display on the first floor alone.

"I have our wedding portrait; I have pictures of my boys on the opposite walls and I have pictures of Isabella and the family," Roman says.