What would Christmas be without Bob？ Not much. Aunts, uncles and Grandmother were coming, so we went through the motions as much for memory as anything, but our hearts weren’t in it. Dad sat for longer and longer periods, staring silently out the window, and Mother’s heart was heavy with worry...
On December 23, another official-looking package arrived. My father watched stone-faced as Mother unpacked Bob’s dress blues. After all this time, why oh, why did they—the nameless they—send his dress uniform, I thought bitterly. Silence hung heavy. As she refolded the uniform to put it away, a mother’s practicality surfaced, and she went through the pockets almost by rote, aching wi