I knew the words were in him. Hearing the details of your loved one’s day is one of those treasures taken for granted. Gustavo was an excellent reader. I loved hearing him read. He pronounced words slightly off but hearing him speak in complete sentences were precious moments. I would buy books he even hinted he might be interested in. He knew they were more for me than him.
I grabbed a piece of paper from a notebook in his backpack. I wrote down a sentence and slid the paper over to him. He picked up the pencil and neatly wrote the date on the page and then slid it back to me.
“Dear Gustavo, How was your day at school?”
“June 6, 2004”
“Dear Estela, I had apple juice. The money.”
That was the beginning of the after school letters that helped me tell my son I loved him in a way that made it past the intersection. I couldn’t believe it. I could see what he was thinking. It was there all along. I just didn’t know how to ask.