With only a few days until Christmas, Bonnie Sherman picked her way among the snow in the cemetery to her son’s grave. It had snowed a couple of days ago, and the weak December sunlight hadn’t made much of a dent in the precipitation. More fog and snow was predicted this holiday season, much to the delight of all who wanted a white Christmas.
Bonnie arrived at the headstone bearing her son’s name. Only four when he passed, Jeff would’ve been rooting for the magic of snow on Christmas Eve. The thought brought a haunted smile to Bonnie’s face. She ran her fingers across the top of the stone, the chill of it radiating deep inside her soul.
She couldn’t remember the last time she felt warm. Probably that summer day she’d taken Jeff to the sports complex to fly the kite her mother had given h
