"Oh my love... My darling..."
And he would quiet and stop fussing. And they stayed that way, mother and child, for some time. as she wondered how this tiny being, so vulnerable and fragile, was going to survive in the world.
She stared at the flame. The candle seemed lighted from within, and the flame, at times, stood tall atop it, until the slightest breeze or air current from her mouth would make it tilt one way, then the other. She wiped a tear. Then another.
"I love you, Joshua," she whispered. "I always did."
Perhaps his name was something else. Perhaps, or probably, he would not recognize her if per chance God changed time and circumstances so that they might meet one day. On a soccer field during a youth game. Or on the quad of a fine university. Or on his way to propose to his future wife at the outdoor cafe they first met at.
That seemed so unlikely to be fantasy.
And she sobbed some more.