Renata’s Pink Blanket Led Me Back to the Letter My Parents Buried

“Do you remember what the lady looked like?”

“She had dark hair.

She was holding the baby like this.”

Renata tucked both arms around an invisible bundle.

Her careful little movement made me think of the photograph I had not yet seen.

“Did Grandma tell you the lady’s name?”

“Elena.”

The name was familiar from the scraps of old family talk I had never thought to question.