He bit his lip. “This is really complicated, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know what to call you.”
I nodded. “But I hope it will get easier in time.”
He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. “Can you tell me about my brother?”
And I stepped back from the doorway to let him in.
For the first time in years, I pulled out the photos of Danny and told his story. I showed him the drawings he did in kindergarten and the award he won in his first spelling bee.
I cried, but for the first time, it didn’t feel like those tears were filled with pain.
Instead, it felt like something was healing.
I pulled out the photos of Danny and told his story.