I learned to record feed times again and to notice when he needed rest.

Each little task felt both familiar and entirely new.

Across the room, a father read a paperback aloud to his child.

I heard him stumble over a line and laugh softly.

The ordinary sound nearly undid me.

I had spent the previous week thinking of fatherhood as providing a paycheck and a stable roof.

In that room I understood how small those things were without attention.

I went home only to shower in the guest bathroom of Mr.