Thinking over what had happened that day, the news was not good, but we both knew what the doctors were going to say and we both knew what was coming. Hoping Maggie might open up about this during our long drive from Houston, I was feeling a deep sadness as I realized how long it had been now since Maggie and I had really talked about anything. Oh, sure, there was the day-to-day stuff but really it had been almost 35 years since we lost our daughter Layla and, after this agonizing ride home from MD Anderson Hospital in Houston, I couldn’t help but think that not only had I lost my only child the day Layla drowned, but I had lost my wife Maggie too.

The fog had turned to rain and fog, an interesting combination but quite common down here on the Mississippi River Delta.

Blue was humming along down the highway. I could hear the windshield wipers squeaking on the glass, a squeak, squeak, on the back stroke. It wasn’t raining hard enough for the wipers to really work that well but it was raining a little too much to drive without them.