An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination

by Elizabeth McCracken

“Was he a beautiful baby?” she wanted to know, and I wondered how she knew to ask: she was the only one who did. Margi said, “Oh, Elizabeth, please know that if any of us could absorb your pain for you, we would,”

“I woke up today thinking of you. It’s Mother’s Day, Elizabeth. Of course I’m thinking of how I desperately wish circumstances were different.

“It’s hard to be with grief. We all so want to help and there is really nothing to do.

How’s your heart old friend. I’m thinking of you a lot and sending many heart kisses.”