I should have seen his weaknesses and only given him a section of myself but I loved him to my core, no matter who he was. There were no hidden places in my heart that would not welcome him or any sacred ground inside my being that he could not walk upon.

I may never know Mama as well as I wanted to but I knew how gentle she was. I had been a jig saw puzzle for her just waiting to be touched and made whole. But now, I was free from hurting her. She was looking at me, not as a loss but as a gain.

He had become like an old sweater, full of holes but never to be discarded, too many cold nights to find it in the back of a drawer and pull out.

I am well practiced in avoidance and indifference though the hollowness in my soul resents her absence; I wear the mask I must.

He put his head up to the sky and closed his eyes. The tear that fell down his cheek glistened in the sun and remained there, like the impression of a scar