LAS VEGAS — Plenty has passed. Much of it was good. There have been months of mending, countless sighs of relief, renewed grounds for hope.



That growing optimism is not unfounded. Just a couple of weeks ago the boy tugged on his trusty blades and actually went for a skate. Injury rehabilitation under the watchful eye of his (soon-to-be) NHL employers is progressing nicely.



Even so, even now, recollections of the original ordeal are fresh. They remain raw.



And it shows.



Whether it’s the kid himself answering questions one morning in a near-empty practice rink in a quiet suburb. (“It gets me teary-eyed.”) Whether it’s his mother choking up the other night in that bass-thumping hockey emporium on The Strip. (“It was such an emotional time.”)



It is a topic that wrenches, still. Given the turmoil of the offseason, it’s understandable.



Because summertime’s downer must have been...