On a sunny Saturday, Lucas and I walked through the garden with a packet of new seeds.

He asked whether Rachel would be able to plant them with us.

“Go ask her,” I said.

He ran through the back door calling her name.

A moment later she answered from the kitchen, warm and clear.

I stood still and listened, letting the sound wash over me.

No uncertainty this time.

Just my wife calling our son to come and get his boots.