“Yes,” I said.

“He was.” She thought about that, the way seven-year-olds do, chewing it.

“Are we sad?” I considered how to answer her honestly.

“A little,” I said.

“It’s all right to be a little sad for him.

He lost something today that he can’t get back.

But we’re not going to carry his sadness for him, baby.

That’s his to carry.