Tonight I went to Barnes & Noble to pick out a few books to mail to you for Christmas. It was hard to choose because you just turned four last month and I haven't seen you since your first Mother died. I don't know what books you already have, but I assume you have some because I know your Dad likes to read books.
I browsed the picture book section and bought you some books that Karma and I had when we were kids: Harry the Dirty Dog***Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile***The Fire Cat and a book of poetry by Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends.
Looking at all the children's picture books sunk my heart into murky water where memories of your Mother lay and the reality of her departure from this world and what she had to leave behind: you, her beloved son and the rest of us who loved her so much.
There seemed to be so much symbolism in the titles of books on these shelves, books about things she loved when she was alive: horses, unicorns, rabbits. I pulled a book about horses off the shelf and looked at the pages, wondering if she is riding horses in another world with your brother Brandon, your uncle Bobby and your Grandma and Grandpa Jones. Or maybe they're riding unicorns, who knows? Or giant velvetine rabbits.
I got you these books because they are familiar to me and they live somewhere in my soul and in Karma's soul, too.