Dear Henry,
Can you tell me anything about my father?
Mama told me my daddy was the Greek God of emotion (even though I now know there wasn't one) and he had to leave because he couldn't live on earth for more than 10 years, and by the time I was born, he had spent 9 of his 10 with my mother.
Mama used to tell me stories about him. It was rare, so when she did I drank up every word. She told me they used to dance when she was pregnant with me, and he would hold her so close she was scared he'd pop her belly and I'd fly out like an untied balloon that someone let loose. I always laughed at this, sometimes she'd join in and then I'd REALLY lose it. We'd laugh until we cried and our stomachs hurt, and by the time we caught our breath, she was no longer in the mood to talk about her Greek God, and when I looked in her eyes I saw something that told me not to push, so I never did.
I later recognized it in a photograph of myself, shortly after Eric left.
It was hurt.
See you soon,
KL