Dear Notorious,

Today, when I got in the car, you said "You never told me about your father." with a serious no nonsense look in your eyes. No getting off easy this time. If only you were a little older, I could just read the letter I wrote to you awhile back. But, I was left to a simple, albeit sad, explanation of the man who raised me and why we never see or hear of him. My answer satisfied you and you quickly moved on to the healing of your paper cut but my heart was left reeling.
I hate that his life is part of my story. But then again, his life makes my story. His bad, made all of God's good SO real. I always needed a Father and I found that in Jesus. I always needed to feel unconditional love and I got that from my Heavenly Father. I need to know I mattered and my testimony unfolds my importance on this earth every. single. day. See, Notorious, you are sitting in the backseat with your bushy mop of yellow afro and your sweet full lips and your serious brown eyes and you are my do over. You are my chance to make it all right. The best that I can anyway. With all your questions, I wonder if you have inherited my spiritual gift. My friends jokingly call it my vampire powers but really it is intuition. Well, even more than that. It is what makes me a pray-er. Intensely so. Sometimes I know things about people before they ever tell me. Sometimes even people I do not know. And so I pray. Or it is a warning to steer clear of someone who is not safe. Red flags in my spirit. The reason why I think this is because in our conversation you asked me about my father's birthday and did we celebrate and how could we if he was so mean. I explained how we are commanded by God to honor our parents, yes even if they are mean. You see, my first born, birthday and father's day were two of the most awkward holidays for me because he was so, well, so mean. And you know what? Yesterday was his birthday. It's like you knew. Hmmm...
And what you don't know is that after your beautifulk drawing of you sitting at that grand piano, smiling out at the audience and all the roses in your picture, I cried myself to sleep missing my brother. He was a performer, a musician, an amazing gifted talent. Born that way. You are so much like him with your exuberance for life and tritty tot in your step every day. Your fresh perspective and joy. How ever am I going to explain his absence? It is so profound. Huge. Sometimes I just have to cry it out because it is not fair. It is not fair that he is not here. He would be there at the talent show. I know it. And he would bring you roses. Because I always brought HIM flowers when he performed. I never told you that. But I did. And it is not fair that he is not here and I am dreading explaining his absence to you although you will have to hear it in age appropriate spurts. It is so sad. So tragic. And I miss him every day. Every doggone day. He was my only sibling...half my childhood died when he did. In some ways even you will be missing a part of me without him and that is why I cried. I couldn't stop. I want him here. Today. With you playing the piano, your big yellow fro bouncing along. Waiting and ready with me to throw flowers at your feet because you are that talented and that amazing. I am so proud of you Notorious. I am so glad you are mine.

Love,
Mama