But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t. As difficult as it was, I went to the store's management, and told them what had happened. They called the cops and child protection services. I held Lilith the entire time, she didn’t cry, she didn’t whine, she just gurgled happily in my arms until four hours later, child protection took her away. Lilith broke my heart, once that lady took her from me, she let out an ear-piercing cry heard around the store. She cried all the way to the car, and as they drove away I could hear her for blocks. I look back and I ask, why? Why did Zoe think I was good enough for her girl? Or was she just crazy? I don’t know, never will. They never found Zoe, she had appeared in my life as easily as she had disappeared from the store. I did the right thing, but the right thing is never the easiest thing. I sometimes think about how my life would have been different if I kept Lilith or tried to adopt her, and where is she now? The truth is, she will never know her mother, or the woman who took care of her for four hours that day in the grocery store.

The girl saw that I was admiring her child, so she came up to me and introduced herself. The girl’s name was Zoe, and she told me that she had run away from home a few months ago. Her family yelled at her constantly for having a baby so young, and for not making the father take any responsibilities for the child. The father left town right after Zoe told him that she was pregnant. She wanted her baby to grow up in a loving house, so she left her parents’ place, and has been roaming ever since. Her little baby’s name was Lilith. Zoe asked me if I had any children, I said unfortunately no, and I explained to her the reason and the situation. We talked some more and she asked if I would like to hold the baby, I said that I would be delighted, and she gave Lilith to me. A few minutes later, Zoe told me that she had to go pick up some diapers and asked if I would take care of the baby, since she will be right back. I said fine, so I stood there in the frozen food isle with little Lilith in my arms. I remember cradling warm little Lilith in my arms, and the delight of holding a child. It was wonderful. I waited there for a while, and realized that Zoe had been gone for quite some time, so I went to go look for her. I went over to the canned goods aisle, no Zoe, the diaper aisle, no Zoe, back to the frozen foods, no Zoe to be found. I looked everywhere for her, she had disappeared. She left me her child. She left her child in my care, she gave her child to me. I looked down at Lilith and, I actually thought for a second, for one split second...

One day, years after the day at the doctors, I went to the grocery as I always did. I remember that I quickly walked into the store, because it looked like it was about to storm outside. The sky was really gray and I could smell the electricity building in the air. So, I ran inside, grabbed a basket and began to shop. I picked up a few things for dinner, and while I was in the frozen food section, I came across a young girl of about 16 with a large bag and a little baby. The girl didn’t look so well. She looked like she hadn’t seen a shower for a few weeks, and didn’t smell very nice either. Her baby was beautiful though. She had the baby wrapped up in a little pink blanket, with her pink lace bonnet on, and a little golden curl sticking out. She was one of the most beautiful babies I had ever seen...

Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a mother. My mother gave me a baby doll when I was young, and like a little girl, I pretended that my baby doll was real. Her name was Crissy. I brought Crissy everywhere, I took her to the zoo, to the grocery, everywhere I went, Crissy was by my side.

When I married Harold, we had tried to have children but were unsuccessful. We went to the doctor, who ran some tests, and a week later we found out that I was barren. There was nothing the doctors could do. I was never to have a child of my own. I had to accept that this was my lot in life, not to have a child. I had to accept it, I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to accept it. I had to accept this contrary to everything that I had hoped for since I was a little girl. Harold was so supportive throughout the whole ordeal, and the months of depression that had followed. But I knew, I knew that Harold was disappointed. Disappointed with me, disappointed not to ever have a child that we could call our own. A child that was born of our love. And it was never to happen. After a few months, we never spoke of children again...

Well, Mah-jongg night was canceled last Monday due to the fact that Rose couldn’t make it. She said that her husband Randy had a bowling league meeting and she had to stay home with the kids. Rose’s children are so beautiful. That little Randy Jr. is an angel whereas Ruth merely has the face of an angel. Ruth is a handful, but a very sweet child.

Anyway, since Rose couldn’t make it Sylvia, Miriam and I sat around playing Canasta and eating Chex Mix instead. We had a wonderful time. I even went unlocked the liquor cabinet and we had a few highballs, no big whop.

It seems like we’ve been having Mah-jongg Mondays forever. I remember when we started having Mahjongg Mondays. It was only a few years after my dear Harold died. Mimi knew I was going though some hard times. And I turned to Mimi and told her about how bored and lonely I was, and I said that I had nothing to look forward to. I wasn't going out, or doing anything for that matter. Bingo was boring me, mall jogging with her in the mornings wasn't cutting it. I was disinterested in everything. I wanted to let loose, but I didn't know how. Then Mimi came up with the idea of Mahjongg Mondays. Invite some friends over, have a few drinks and play Mahjongg. It was great.

When I was a child, I never remember Mahjongg being any fun. Mother taught me to play during family affairs when I was a little girl. I hated it back then, because I had to listen to all my aunts complain about their arthritis, their bunions or their sciatic nerve acting up. I also had to keep an eye on grandma, 'cause she started with her alzheimer’s and she would wander away from the table to talk to the potted plant for a few minutes. Then I'd have to get grandma and tell her, "Grandma, the pot's not playing this round, you are."

I’m so glad that we’ve been getting together for the past few years. I wouldn’t be doing much social activity if it wasn’t for game night.

Well, I gotta go. David Letterman is on, and I just thought that I would write something during the commercial break.

Harold died 20 years ago, as of December 17. There isn't a day goes by that I don't think of him. People say that time heals all wounds. I say they don't heal fast enough, and they never heal completely.

I've been fine for the past few years. I usually make my way out to Shady Pines to visit his grave on our anniversary. I sweep the leaves off of his headstone. Re-pot the begonias near his grave, then I sit there and talk to him. He will never leave me completely. To this day, I catch myself occasionally turning the corner to the living room and expecting to see him, see my Harold sleeping in front of the TV.

I'm happy that I have my dear friend Miriam to turn to. I call her Mimi. She's my oldest friend. We grew up together. We would play together as children, dolls, jacks, jumprope, kiss the boys. Mimi is the one I turn to. She has always been there for me. When I met Harold, she warned me that I would fall in love with him. She said that I talked about him as though he was the only person alive. She was right, and she has been with me all along.

Thank you Mimi. I love you.

Also, Mimi, please remember to bring the Chex Party Mix to Mah-jongg night on Monday. I'm running low and I don't feel like leaving the house, it's too cold. Anyway, please send me a letter, we need to talk...

So, I cleaned. At first I cleaned for the sake of cleaning. Then I just cleaned not to think about Harold. Then I cleaned to keep myself from crying.

After the house was spotless, I sat at the kitchen table again, frantic. I lit a cigarette and waited. I waited for what seems to have been for hours, at the table cigarette after cigarette, thinking of him, waiting. The phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I answered the phone. "Harold?" The voice on the other line wasn't Harold. It was a young man from the coroners office telling me that they had a body down there believed to be my husband. "Could I come down there to identify it?" I said, "Of course." I didn't even have to go down there, I knew it was my Harold. So I went to the bathroom, fixed my hair, fixed my liner, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and was out the door. All the way there, I was praying for it not to be Harold, but I knew, I knew.

I parked the car, told the officer at the door who I was, and he took me to a man in a little, white lab coat, then he escorted me down a long corridor. The door opened and there he was, lying there on that metal table. The harsh florescent light, illuminating him like an angel. I approached Harold and stood there, silently waiting a few minutes. I took his hand, it had grown cold. I wanted to ask the man how long Harold had been there, but he was gone. I looked back at Harold, layed his hands back down and kissed his lips one last time and left.

I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. It felt like a horrible dream. He, was everything to me. He was everything...