I Was Holding My Son’s T-Shirt When His Teacher Called And Said He Had Left Something Behind

it in that hallway, still wearing the yellow coat and the enormous suspenders, and I watched tears fall onto the notebook paper before he reached the second paragraph. His shoulders shook once, quietly, and then he pressed the letter briefly to his mouth the way you do with something that cannot be held any other way.

Then he looked up at me with red continue reading …