Jonas and His Toy
Quiet moments with Jonas were the most poignant. As if it contained global secrets, he would sit on the floor with his plush dinosaur and brush his fingertips over its fluffy belly. “Are you alright, friend?” I would inquire. His gaze would stray to the door, as though he was waiting for it to open and let Charlotte in. “Just playing, Dad,” he would say quietly. Knowing that his universe was lacking a crucial component, his remarks struck a deep chord. Jonas appeared to be hoping she would return at any second.
Jonas And His Toy
Finding Our Rhythm
Our days were full with minor setbacks, but gradually things began to become easier. After waking up and sharing breakfast, we would start our day. Go up the stairs in a race! To ease the early rush, I would make a call. Even if we occasionally had unpleasant days, every new ritual—from Saturday television to bedtime stories—became the norm. Keeping each other close, we were learning to exist without the lady who had once been the center of our universe.
Finding Our Rhythm
