Nora was gone. Just like that. A car crash on a rainy highway, over in seconds, no chance to say goodbye or I love you or any of the things you think you’ll have time to say.
Nora was gone.
She left behind a two-year-old boy who’d lost not just his mother, but the only world he’d ever known.
Leo had no father in the picture. No grandparents. No aunts or uncles. Just me.
I drove through the night to get to him. A neighbor who babysat Leo while Nora worked had brought him to the hospital after getting the call. When I walked into that hospital room and saw Leo sitting on the bed in too-big pajamas, clutching a stuffed bunny and looking so small and so scared, something in me cracked wide open.
Leo had no father in the picture.
He saw me and reached out immediately, his tiny hands grabbing my shirt. “Uncle Ollie… Mommy… inside… don’t go…”
“I’ve got you, buddy. I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” I said. And I meant it with every fiber of my being.