Dear friend


The last time I saw you, my son was alive. My son Charles grew up with yours. Yet when we ran into each other, you didn’t mention his name. In fact, you looked like you were afraid of me. I think if you had had enough warning, you would have avoided me all together.

When I lost my son, I did not erase him from my family tree. Nor did I erase him from my memory. But when I run into people who say nothing, it makes me feel like my child never counted for anything.

You worry that you’ll …