Ada never visited the small wooden crosses that marked the sandy loam where her husband had interred the tiny corpses of the babes that would never suckle at her breast.
She never shed a tear at their passing, nor spoke the christian names they had been given.
She was a dutiful, if not loving wife, and reared the one child she was spared with a firm, yet caring hand.
She was on her deathbed the first and only time she ever told her husband, or her son that she loved them.
Just a moment after she realized it herself.
This was written for a combination of prompts provided by Charli at Carrot Ranch. The prompt calls for a piece of flash 99 words in length. Last weeks prompt was Sisu, which is a Finnish term for an enduring determination to overcome adversity. And this weeks prompt was something to do with old age.