PART 3

There is a particular kind of loneliness that comes with being the only adult in a small child’s world.

It isn’t the loneliness of an empty bed.

It is the feeling that every decision, however ordinary, has to be made by you.

When Mabel had a fever, there was nobody to ask whether it was time to call the pediatrician.

When the washing machine broke, I fixed it while she sat on the kitchen floor drawing animals on the cardboard box that had held a replacement part.