He picked up that microphone because I had never once let him see me pick up my own.

That is the thing I have had to sit with.

My son was brave that night because I had not been, for ten years, and a ten-year-old should never have to supply the courage his mother has misplaced.

Chapter 8 — Not Tonight, Sweetie

I crossed the stage and I gently took the microphone out of his small hands.

“Not tonight, sweetie,” I said to him, softly, just for him.

“You did enough.