Why the visits had been arranged as they were.

Who Kendra was, and the fact that another child shared part of their history.

I would need words they could understand without making them responsible for my pain or for adults’ choices made before they could speak.

Kendra’s son was not a rival to either of them.

He had never been the person who placed a check on my hospital tray.

Whatever relationship the children might later want would need care and time, not an old argument handed down as an obligation.