Coming Home

Silence.  The closer we get the words slow to a trickle.  We spend the last few hours in silence.  Deep breath in the driveway.  It is time.  Through the door the familiar smell of home without the familiar sounds.  Her room is dark.  Light on.  I hate the dark.  The toys are waiting, but I can't find her.  The insane thought that she would be here missing us is ebbing away.  The inevitable  rumblings start.   I sit at the doll house where all the babies are in the bed with the mommy and daddy.  The little blond girl has her head on the mommy's tummy... how she left it the last time she played.  If only we could play.  Wailing.  Calling. I'm so sorry for so many things.  I hold the favorite mermaid and the princess fairy.  Where is my little one?  I want her back!  I just want to play again.  Pounding.  Tears.  Carpet.  No!  No!  NO!  Seconds.  Minutes.  Hours.   But no one comes.   Silence.