I know what you did not tell them, that much I could learn for myself, but what did you tell them? I know you were full figured, I think that is the acceptable term, once it was Reubenesque, but someone must have noticed something.
Maybe those at work, sitting at their terminals didn’t notice, you came and went, few friendships perhaps, but you were close to the family, they must have suspected, though you told the agency no one knew, certainly not your partner in that act.
It won’t change anything, best since you took the answer to your grave, the one I visited to greet you and bid you farewell, the least a son can do for the mother he never got the chance to know.
If, sitting at your meal you hear the song of a bird, what do you do? You may tap your chopstick rest, and perhaps he will answer and repeat his sweet song. If you tap a second time and there is only silence is the bird rejecting you or offering his song to another, flown from your window.
Perhaps you should tap again and hear the sweeter song of silence that echoes over the garden and zendo. On a distant limb the small songbird smiles.