I come here and imagine that this is the spot where everything I’ve lost since my childhood has washed out. I tell myself, if that were true, and I waited long enough, then a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field, and gradually get larger until I’d see it was Tommy. He’d wave and maybe call. I don’t let the fantasy go beyond that. I can’t let it. I remind myself I was lucky to have had any time with him at all.