“When are you moving back?” my young niece asked.
“Texas is my home now. I can’t move back here.”
“But why not?” she pleaded. “I miss all of you!”
“Because I have roots there. It’s the only place your cousins know. They grew up there, they went to school there –“
“And Stephen is buried there too,” she finished my sentence. Saddened, her eyes looked downward. “I’m sorry.”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll come back to visit.”
“I know, but it’s not the same.”
“Nothing is the same anymore,” I said, hugging her tight. “Nothing.”