In the fall of 1998 I lost you. Since I was your foster mom, I never had much legal right to you anyway.
What happened to your real mama. What happened to your whole family was awful. Criminal awful.
I was just a broken bystander.
You were, for one precious year, my baby. And when they took you away I was broken.
Barely survive broken.
Whole world changed broken.
I was pretty sure the people who took you would erase me, but I could not let you go without a benediction.
The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette published it. I knew that they would change your name so I called you Little One.
And for year I have been calling and calling, Little One.
I missed you. I missed the years, days, hours with you.
You were my lost treasure.
One good thing happened; losing you gave me a plumb line for love.
Anyone’s child could be you. Suddenly the world was full of Veronicas.
It was a painful gift. I would have rather had you, real you.
But I was the ghost. And I can give you these two promises–
I loved the world better because of you.
And I love you. Always, always, little one.