A child stares out of an open window. Tears stream down his face. Pictures of his mother lay on the floor. He has lost her. She has passed away. The boy was told of his mother’s joyous spirit, her personality and the way she was. He was told by her friends and family how happy she was to have given birth to her one and only son. Yet, he can’t remember her face and her warmth; he can’t remember her touch and the love only a mother could give. He clutches a picture of her and holds it to his chest; he kisses her. He scours his mind for the memory of her, at least one precious moment. He finds none. If only he could remember the sound of her voice and her laughter. If only he could remember her bright smile. He closes his teary eyes tightly, and tries even harder to remember her, but there is no memory of their time together. With his eyes closed, the remnant of his tears fall onto the photos of his mother. He opens his eyes and looks at her pictures intently. Mommy I love you, he says. He will carry her in his heart forever. A heartbroken child stares out of an open window. The cold winter wind touches his face. He hopes his mother can see him; he hopes his mother can hear him.