It is evening.
Three of the boys have finished dinner and have gone upstairs with daddy to get ready for their bath.
I’ve stayed behind with Jamie, as he is still finishing off his lamb, rice, and yoghurt.
He wants to play with chopsticks.
Instead, I pull out Cameron’s photos from my wallet and we look through them together.
He says: “Cameron lives in heaven. He has a new body. But he’s one of the brothers.”
And then: “I’m also sad. He’s one of the big boys.”
And then: “Why does he have a hole in his cheek?”
(I explain that his skin got broken when he was coming out of mummy.)
And then: “What if we can’t talk in heaven and we can’t talk to Cameron?”
(I reassure him that we can.)
And then: “I really love Cameron…”