Dear Tobias,
Years ago, when I was ten, one of my uncles died, the one I was closest to. It caused me to become depressed, crying myself to sleep every night. And then, Jordan came to my room and gave me a suggestion. She told me to write a letter to him, and then attach it to a balloon, and it would be carried up to him in Heaven. So I did it, and it made me feel better, like I had been able to finally say good-bye to him.
I am saying good-bye to you. For you...you...I can barely stand to write it, like writing it would make it true.
Though we won the war tonight, did not live to see the end.
Oh God Tobias, I miss you so much already. I miss everything about you, your voice, that always seemed to bring me to my senses, your eyes, that seemed to express to much sadness, but so much love, your arms, that when you held me in them, made me feel like everything was right in the world.
And I miss your strength. I may have had the showy strength, the outer strength, but you had the inner strength. Some of the things you endured could have driven a lesser person, someone like me, crazy, even before we began the fight, but you held on. You survived.
You said once that nop one cares about you. I do. Your uncle, your aunt, the kids at school who would do things to you, they didn't know the real you, the you that brightened up a room just by being with it.
I loved you Tobias, and I will always love you.
Good-Bye.
"May the road rise up to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sunshine warm upon your face,
May the rain fall softly on your fields.
And until we meet again someday,
May God hold you in the palm of his hands.
And the memories that we have shared,
Will linger on and on."
Love,
Rachel
***
Three months later, 1,946 miles away...
Stacy Kylman walked outside to get the newspaper. She bent down to pick it up, hand on her pregnant belly. As she picked it up, she noticed a piece of trash in her yard. She retrieved it, and observed it.
It was a weathered envelope. "Tobias" was written on the cover. Attached to it by a string was a pice of rubber that could have once been a balloon.
Sensing that the reciever of the envelope was not around, she opened it, and read the letter. By the time she was finished, tears were running down her face, sympathy for this poor, dead boy. As she walked slowly back to her house, she had an idea.
"Honey," She called to her husband, "I know what to name our son. Tobias."