“Dad… I don’t think the heat is working in my room,” I said.“What?” I heard him mumble again. So I opened the door.“The heat’s not wor...ing in my room. It’s freezing.”He sighed. “Come here,” he said, shifting over in bed and lifting the blankets on the other side. I slowly walked over and slid into the bed. Finally, it was nice and warm. I curled up in the soft, warm bed and started dozing off. Until I felt a body against mine. Dad had shifted back over and pressed his stomach against my back. I. But the longing that he felt, staring down into the face of the one reason he’d stayed alive made it just too much to comprehend. Too monumental to wrap his mind around. He numbly stroked at the boy’s sunken cheek with a finger, [so hot] searching for a handle on the moment, something, anything to grasp onto. [did you ever really find what you hoped to find?] He tried to remember what the boy looked like before. He had fewer bones back then. [that place that is still and at peace?] His boy, his. More

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