jmgoyder

Son was less than two years old when Husband had his first bout of illness and had to go to hospital to undergo numerous tests and biopies, all of which produced mysterious results (it wasn’t until later that kidney cancer was diagnosed).

During one of our visits to the hospital, Son experienced his first full-blown asthma attack (long story and all is good now). Anyway, hours later, once we had said goodnight to Husband and left the hospital, equipped with ventolin and a nebuliser, Son, breathing properly again, looked out of the car window and became transfixed with the half moon that seemed to follow us all the way home.

“Moon bwoken,” he said, seriously.

When we got home, Son insisted that we go outside to look at the moon. After a few moments, he asked me, “Daddy can fixit?”

“Yes,” I said, holding back my tears.

A week or so later, with Husband home again, Son took both of our hands and toddler-rushed us outside where we all looked up to see a beautiful, full moon wrapped in a dark, cloudless sky.

Son then threw his chubby little arms around Husband’s neck and whispered, “Fank you, Daddy, you’re a vewy good boy!”