(a Sunday vignette reprise from 2013)
“Mama! Maaa-ma!” he cried from the kids’ dark bedroom. I went to him; he was curled up on his knees on the top bunk bed, his face streaming tears.
“Hey, Jobie…what’s going on? I’m here…it’s mama; are you awake?” I reached up for him so that he could feel the weight of my hands, and know I was there. His eyes and the tears on his cheeks caught the bits of light coming through the door.