"I suppose swimming is more innate, though we must have had to learn at one point," he laughs a little, getting a little more steady with his gliding steps backward, building up a little momentum. His smile grows a little more reminiscent, a little sad, but not the gut-aching depression that he spent years going through. "Remember how uncoordinated Artie was when he started to paddle?"

It still aches, to think of their son, but if they never talk about it, if they never remember him, maybe it will never start to heal.