Dear B.,
I had fervently hoped you would not join this dispirited club of motherless souls.
But now that you are in it, I offer a very small glimmer of understanding about this place where we find ourselves.
It’s dark and lonely here. Memory is the daily bread. The light is dim and unpredictable, but it sometimes illuminates the twisting path that led from her life to yours.
The path is yours to walk
whenever she speaks to you in that particular whisper now only you can hear.
8 December 2009