Hazel came home for a planned stretch on a chilly Thursday.

I was invited for one supervised afternoon, after Megan had reviewed the schedule with the care team.

There were medications to organize, feeding instructions to follow and a notebook filled with practical observations.

I knew better than to act as though money would make those routines easier to understand.

I washed my hands, listened and asked questions.

Hazel was smaller than her brothers.

She had the same blond hair and a serious little expression that reminded me of my father’s sister.