I Had Barely Finished Holding My Son’s Newborn Baby When a Nurse Pulled Me Aside and Whispered, “That Isn’t the Child He Left With”

We replaced it.

The other changed color.

Nothing supernatural.

I actually prefer it.

Living things are unpredictable.

So is grief.

If the roses had become sacred objects, every dead branch would feel like a second catastrophe.

We learned not to place that weight on plants.