You gave me the greatest gift of my life. My son. And here it is, nearly 40 years later, and I barely remember your smile.

Our time together was so elusive, so temporary, yet permanently etched in my life. Your son, my son: your gift to me.

And now our son has sons of his own. Sons that he cherishes. Sons that he loves beyond belief. Sons that adore him. Sons that he tucks into bed every night. All things I did for our son. All things that you missed.

Where are you now? How did your life turn out? Are you happy? Do you realize what you missed? Do you have any clue of the magnificent man who resulted from our nights together?

No, sadly, you have never known him. Yes, there was that evening when you came to meet a toddler in my cousin’s living room. Yes, you said, he’s mine. Yes, you said, I’d like to be a part of his life, across the distance, across the country.

I’ll write you, you said.

But you never did.


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