Yesterday afternoon, when I stepped outside for a moment to count heads, I heard a voice from the sky: “Hi Mama!”

I looked up–way up–to see Eamon grinning down at me from the high branches of his favorite tree. He wore a plaid flannel coat and blue jeans. Late afternoon sunshine filtered through budded branches and framed his boyish face with a hazy glow. A jackknife and compass were clipped

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