I don’t remember much of Mikey’s birth. That’s probably because I was three years old at the time and not very many people remember when they were three. I had woken up one morning in April and the house was quiet. I didn’t hear Mom or Dad. At first I thought they had left me. Was I that spoiled and bad tempered that would cause them to leave? Holding back tears, I walked down the stairs, expecting the house to be empty. But my grandmother and grandfather were sitting in the kitchen having breakfast!

"Well, look who’s up?" my grandmother said with a smile. "It’s our little prince!" (My grandmother was convinced that I couldn’t do one thing wrong as a kid, so she called me "Prince".)

"Granny?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. "Where’s Mommy and Daddy?"

Grandma and Grandpa gave each other a look. Then my grandfather spoke. "Carlos, you’re going to get a present later. How’s that sound?"

I bet my eyes widened, because my grandma started to laugh. "Well, I see that the little prince seems excited about the new edition!" She gave me a wink as she brought me a bowl of cereal. "How did you sleep last night?"

"What’s my present?" I asked in typical child fashion.

"Now, if we told you what you were getting," Grandpa said as he got me some toast, "you wouldn’t be surprised. That’s why a present is also called a surprise."

I picked at my cereal. Grandpa tells me now that I was a fidgety all day long after that. "You couldn’t sit still for five seconds," he recalls. "Every time we looked at you, you were in one half of the house. The next minute, you were in the other. We couldn’t keep you still!"

At around five-o’-clock, the phone rang. I ran to get it. "Hello?"

"Carlos? It’s Dad."

I was elated. "Hi, Daddy! Where’s my present?"

Dad seemed a bit confused, but then I heard him laugh. "Oh! Your present is doing just fine." I vaguely remember his emphasis on the word "present".

"Where’s Mommy? Can I talk to her? Please, please, please, please, please?"

"Your mom’s taking a bit of a nap now, Carlos. Be patient." I remember hearing a faint cooing in the background, so I was taken aback. "Daddy, what was that?"

"That sound? It’s your present, son."

A present that made sounds? Now I was confused. "Daddy, did you get me a girl toy?"

Dad laughed again. "No, son. But I’ll tell you this: it’s not really a toy, but it’s like what a little girl would play with. That’s all I’ll say. Put your grandmother on the phone, okay?"

That clue confused me even more. "Okay, Daddy. See you later." I handed the phone over to Grandma, who sounded overjoyed after a few seconds. When she started to cry, I was concerned. I listened to the conversation for about five more seconds before Grandpa hoisted me over his shoulder.

"Hey! Who was that?"

"Daddy. He told me that my present isn’t a toy, but a little girl plays with one. What’s that mean?"

Grandpa seemed to understand completely. "You’re just going to wait, little one. I’m sure the present won’t get lost. Your mother and father will watch it very carefully. I can promise you that."

I still didn’t get it. "Put me down. I wanna go play with my Duplos."

Grandpa let me down as I ran off to get my building blocks. After a while, I heard Grandma talking to Grandpa. She sounded both happy and sad.

"How is August?" my grandpa asked.

My grandmother was silent. (They were my mom’s parents.) Then she started talking in a muffled tone. All I could make out was "not long" and "good life." I walked slowly out of the playroom and hid against the wall. What was going on?

"Anna, you shouldn’t be so sad for August," my grandfather spoke almost silently. "What we should be thinking of are the boys and Danny. And I’m sure that August will be fine."

"Yes, but, John…what do we tell the boy?"

Grandpa sighed. "Carlos is a smart young boy. He’ll find out in his own time."

"That’s what I’m afraid of."

Lowering my head, I walked back off to my blocks. As I snapped the pieces together with my hands, I tried to snap the pieces together in my mind. What did Grandpa mean when he said that Grandma shouldn’t be so sad for my mom? Why were they worried about Dad and me? And…why was Grandma concerned with how much I knew?

I knocked over a stack of blocks I had made, in an effort to stop the discussion. I didn’t want my grandparents to be sad. I also wanted to know what was going on with my mother. It worked, and my grandma came into the room, her eyes still holding sheen of tears. "What happened, my little prince? Did you get hurt?"

I shook my head no. "Grandma, can I have a hug, please?"

My grandmother, who is always more than happy to give hugs (even to this very day), wrapped her arms around me and lifted me up. "It’s time for dinner. What would you like me to make?"

"Macaroni and cheese!" I belted out, my concerns cleverly hidden. "Not the box kind. That’s icky."

Grandma laughed as she took me into the kitchen. "Okay, my little prince. Grandma’s special it is!"

After dinner, I watched some game shows with Grandpa and put a Big Bird puzzle together. I wanted to stay awake for as long as I could. My yawns, however, betrayed me around 7:45.

"I think the little prince is tired," my grandma said, clearly in my hearing range. "It’s time he went off to bed."

I protested. "I am not tired. I’m staying awake until Mommy and Daddy…" I stopped dead in my words. Was I allowed to talk about them?

Grandma’s eyebrows knit together. "Until they get home? It might be a little while longer. Quite a while longer, if my watch is right. Come now. Time for sleep."

Sighing, I made my way up the stairs, changed into my nightclothes, and jumped into bed. As soon as Grandma and Grandpa kissed my forehead, I was asleep. My grandma, however, revealed to me later on that she stood in the doorway to my room and watched me sleep for a good half-hour. She was still thinking about how she was going to break the news to me that soon, my mother was going to die.