She looked at me.
“You can apologize to him. You can remember it. You can change what you do next time.”
Lydia nodded slowly.
That evening, she did exactly that.
She didn’t give Finn a speech.
She sat beside him and said, “Hey, about the other morning. I got frustrated when the bed was wet. I didn’t understand what was happening. I’m sorry.”
Finn looked up from the game he was playing.
“It’s okay.”
Then, because he was eight, he immediately asked whether she had brought his charger.
That was Finn’s gift to all of us.
He kept dragging life back toward normal.
There were still hard moments.
There were needles he hated.
There were numbers that scared Lydia until she learned what to do with them.
There were middle-of-the-night checks and phone alarms and bags that now needed extra supplies before anyone left the house.
