I never saw my son. I never held him. Still I am searching down endless corridors in the night.

I have imagined giving birth to him with a different ending. Pulling him up onto my tummy, feeling his hair, seeing his hands. This helped.

I went to a sweat lodge. Afterwards in the sky I saw a polar bear mother. She gave birth to me and then to him. Totally benign native American grandparents came from the sky to carry him away with them. That helped too.

I would like to tell the whole story another time. Thank you. Deep blessings of kindness to all who lose their beloved young. Whatever you feel is right for you. You can find your own meaning and your own way. In solidarity. Geraldine

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