“What did you do?”
“Our daughter was still alive then,” he said quietly. “Linda. She drove down from Topeka. She sat down next to me in the truck. And she said, ‘Dad. Mom doesn’t know who you are. But you still know who she is. That’s enough. You just have to go in there and be who you are. Whether she knows it or not.’”
He looked down at his hands.
Ezoic
“So I went in,” he said. “And she was sitting at the kitchen table. Crying. Scared. And she looked at me and said, ‘Who are you?’ And I said, ‘I’m a friend, ma’am. I’m here to help.’” He swallowed. “And I made her a cup of tea. With honey. The way she likes it. And she drank it. And she said, ‘You make tea just like my husband.’”
Ezoic
I couldn’t speak.
