A Nurse Mentioned the Woman Visiting My Dying Husband—Then She Came to My Door With a Letter About a Five-Year-Old Boy
“For part of it.”
“Did he talk about his family?”
“Not much.
We were children.
None of us had all the answers adults should have given us.”
I looked at the photograph.
He had spent years learning to live without answers.
Then, when he finally found one, he had not known how to share it before time ran out.