When he sleeps, son #2, like all children, looks angelic. Gone is the tough guy demeanor. Gone is the attempt to carry his world on his little shoulders. And gone is the general mis-trust of the world around him. I stare at him sometimes and wonder what his little eyes have seen and what his little soul endured prior to coming home with me. Then I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that he’s cozy and safe in his bed.
And finally, I wonder if she ever thinks about him….
I try to send out warm and positive thoughts, hoping that they give her some sense of peace that her son is ok.
The Single Mom Chronicles 