Dear Abu

It’s a curious thing.  I don’t know why when I see photos of you I must fight the urge to cry.  First as a kid it was anger, then sadness, wondering why?  Now as a grown woman, it’s still sadness and tears.  As if my heart has been broken.  As if my heart has been ripped out of me.  As if there’s an emptiness inside, a void that’s never and will never be filled.