My Son Brought

first page, written carefully:

Gift from Caleb. Christmas Eve. I should have opened the door.

I had to sit down.

Caleb closed the notebook.

“He said I could read it.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

Caleb sat beside me.

“I’m not forgetting what happened,” he said.

“I don’t expect you to.”

“But I think maybe people can be more than what they did.”

I looked at my son.continue reading …