The old man could feel them, wanted to tell them goodbye. He breathed in the day through the window, and thought, Ah, Spring!

He wished he could tell them their mother was here, and she wanted to tell them hello. He wanted to tell them he loved them, understood what a burden he'd been. Wanted to set them free to run like the mustangs he saw in his youth. Wanted to push them one more time on the swing, wanted to see them walk down the stairs in their princess prom gowns. He should have been nicer, he knew, to the triple-thumbed boys who stammered and dropped their corsage.

He wanted to hold them wrapped in the sweet smelling blankets, the first time they held onto his hand.