At My Mother’s Funeral, a Woman Slipped a Baby Into My Arms and Said, ‘She Wanted You to Have Him’
My body caught him automatically, one hand to his back, the other supporting his legs. He was warm and impossibly real, breath hitching against my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, panicked, adjusting my grip as he squirmed.
I tried to pull away.
The woman’s face was pale, determined. “She wanted you to have him,” she said, voice raw.
“What are you talking about? Who is he?” My voice wavered, but I didn’t let go.
Aunt Karen hissed, “Give him back.” I heard whispers behind us. “People are watching.”
The baby buried his face in my neck. I stood firm, fighting the urge to push him away and run. “I’m not passing him around like a casserole dish,” I shot back.
