Dear Binda,

I LOVE that you love your mother. I know: almost everyone loves their mother but I’m lucky enough to hear you speak of her in that way you do. I’m always in the right place and time to hear those things.  Last week, you told me a secret about her and it bugs me that I want to tell people. But I haven’t told. I guess I just have to take it one day at a time.  It’s only been three days.

Last night, after we got back from Jupiters for drinks I ran into a lemon loaf cake with my name on it. It was delicious. It was like feasting on your secret. It wasn’t enough to satisfy and so I ate a meat pie, then a large family size bag of Skittles, followed by two cans of hard cider. I’m bloated this morning. I’m farting out my sense of loyalty to you.

Finally I just had to take a moment and think: If this is how I feel about your secret, then what must YOU be going through. How are you dealing with this?

I’m sorry I didn’t ask you, until now. I should have. Instead of listening and asking, I was feasting and farting.