On this day, I was happy. The elder boy had done well in class, and He smiled widely. If time ignored past and future, on this moment alone, I was content, jubliant, and proud. There was nothing of his affair to think about, no worry about what my too-soft hands would be able to provide. If I could, I would ask time to stop, the world halt its spinning, and ourselves be frozen there, as we watched him receive his award from the principal. We, putting up our front of proud loving parents, right in front of the school. Only a handful there knew of the tear between me and Him, the slowly widening gap, the cancer eating us out. The elder boy didn't dare look at us up on the stage, which just bothered me briefly. He was shy, painfully so. I clapped wildly, turning my hands red, two seconds after everyone had stopped. He reached over and clasped my left hand, and I pulled it out when he tried to grip my fingers, and I knew time had seized hold again, along with consequence.