Mississippi Mud Pie

Oldest boy came and got me tonight to tell me T was crying in his bed. I went in and heard him sobbing. As I knelt down next to him I asked what it was that made him start crying. “Every time I close my eyes, I see my Granny,” he said. His soft quiet sobs into his pillow were almost silent, but his body rose and fell with each cry. “Oh sweet baby,” I said, “what can I do?” He rubbed his sweet little eyes and looked up at me. “Will you make me a Mississippi Mud Pie?” he asked. “Absolutely!” I said and I rubbed his back and sat with him until he fell asleep.