Pancakes for supper.
Mike made letter pancakes for everyone.
I went to the stove when he was done and silent tears slipped down my cheeks.
There was no letter E.
It's not that Mike didn't make a letter E for the little girl we miss so much it's that the little girl isn't here to have her letter E.
Vincent (4) saw my tears and told me that the last pancake was for Eva.
He was making a sheep for Eva.
We put it on a pink plate for Eva. And now, it sits on Eva's shelf, like an offering.
We will eat it in the morning.
All the pancakes are tasteless in my mouth without the sweet little Eva that should be at the table, eating pancakes with us.
The more time that passes and the more people I have become compadres in loss with, the more I realize that the simple fact that healthy children exist at all is a pure and simple miracle. The fact that three of the world's healthy children are, for now, mine, is even more of a miracle.