She’d taught Daisy to “pray” – paws together, head down. It was ridiculous and beautiful and I laughed for the first time since the funeral.
Tom came out. “Heard about your brother. I’m sorry.”
“Madison made you something.”
She handed me a drawing. Me on my motorcycle with wings. Daisy with wings. Her mom and my brother in the clouds. At the bottom, in purple crayon: “Thank you for being our angel. Love Madison and Daisy.”
“It’s beautiful, kiddo.”
“Mr. Bear Angel? Will Daisy go to heaven?”
“Everything good goes to heaven.”
“Will you take care of her until I get there? When I’m very very old?”Continue reading…
