We were sitting in the car,

driving to the psychiatrist.

David tapped his thumbs

on the steering wheel.

He took a breath.

"Mariah, things will be okay.

We'll get you help,

you'll be okay, baby.

I'll be here, Jessie will be here,

we'll all be here for you.

You'll be okay baby, I promise."

I looked out the window.

He sighed.

He spoke again.

"Sweetheart,
some day we'll find what
we are looking for.

Or maybe we won't.

Maybe we'll find something
much greater than that."

A tear rolled down my cheek.

David reached over and held

my hand.

"Everything's going to be okay."