"why aren't they here anymore?" 
my son asked, as we both stared at the empty orange chairs where they used to sit. 
"don't they like us anymore?" my arm around him, my lips on his temple.
"no, no, my son. that is not it at all. sometimes there is hurt and pain and disagreement, and it just can't be fixed," i tried to explain gently. i felt unequipped to face his brown eyes with answers. 
"why can't everyone just say they are sorry and ask for forgiveness?" i don't know, my dear boy.  
i don't know. 

-the hardest conversations