I FOUND TINY CHILDREN’S SHOES ON MY LATE HUSBAND’S GRAVE EVERY TIME I VISITED.

The shoes… they were a child’s way of staying connected to the father he had lost.

“I’ll stop bringing the shoes. I never meant to upset you.

But something inside me shifted. “No,” I said, surprising even myself. “You don’t have to stop. If it helps Oliver, let him keep bringing the shoes.”

Maya said: “Are you sure?”

“He’s just a child. None of this is his fault.”

For a moment, we stood in silence, two women brought together by loss.

“Maybe it’s not too late for me to be a part of Oliver’s life,” I said quietly. “If that’s okay with you.”

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