I told her she could ask, so I couldn't be angry with her.
Of course, feel free to ask me a personal question.
I just didn't expect her to ask the one question I ask myself to which I have no answer.
"Did you fall on top of her body?"
I wish I knew. I wish someone knew. There are no pictures, no memories extant from those who were there, and I have blocked those moments from my conscious brain. I like to believe that I am not the kind of person who would leave a child behind in an effort to save myself, and the fact that I know we were holding hands as the bullets began flying lets me believe Little Cuter's interpretation of the pulling-my-arm-across-my-body action I repeated while recuperating - You know, Mama, that way you said Come On!
I answered. They offered opinions on whether I should view the FBI's photographic evidence.... uniformly against it, if you wondered.... and they stared with open eyes and open mouths and, I hope, open hearts.
Mine was certainly out there.... raw.... exposed....
****
I'm closing the comments for this one.
