“Where’s Mom?”


Dear Mark,

You were two years old last night.  I held you in my arms.  Your long blonde curls fell in your eyes like they used to.

You kept asking, “Where’s Mom?”  I kept reassuring you that I would find her for you.  You kept asking.  I kept reassuring you.  We sat down on a bench in Lakeside Mall.  I told you it would be alright.

I woke up without you.

Love,

Your Big Brother