He was quiet long enough that I thought he hadn’t heard.

“I want to walk my daughter to school,” he finally said.

“I want to be the person who knows which shoes she likes.”

I looked away because my eyes filled.

A year earlier, he might have answered that he wanted to return to the operating theater.

Something had changed in him already.

I couldn’t decide whether that change was a gift or another part of what we were losing.

Dr.