At My Husband’s Funeral, My Son Whispered Six Words

read two of them and burned them after. The other two I haven’t opened. They are in a drawer in the kitchen in Cuernavaca, under a stack of bills.

Lupita asked me last week if I would ever forgive him.

I told her I didn’t know yet.

I told her that some mornings I wake up and I miss the little boy who used to climb into our bed at five in the morning smelling continue reading …