I was laying in bed thinking, just like he had done the day before. Today he was out moving snow, and I was in moving things around in my head.
Then the snow was all moved and he came back, not singing along with me like usual, not talking real loud or pinching my bum. Just pouring the cereal then saying the prayer then chewing and swallowing.
"You seem sad. You ok?" I put my arm around him, but he didn't look at me. He stared at the leftover milk in his bowl.
"Just thinking about my dad. Cus of that dream I had about your dad yesterday. In the dream, when your mom told us he really died, I started crying and crying as hard as I did when my dad died. It just made me think."
I slipped my hand in between his, looking at his profile. What else could I do? Touch and listen and wait, it always worked before and I knew it would work again.
"It just made me think about my dad on the mountain
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