I'm on the couch next to her. Holding hands.
We're sitting. Remembering. Crying.
She's stick thin. Clothes hanging. Eyes closed.
Sharon darts around, making Mum comfortable. She does an outstanding job. I don't know how to help.
We swap seats.
I sit in cars going back & forth to my Sisters house.
Have I told Mum that I'll miss her enough? That I love her enough? That she did a fantastic job as a Daughter, Wife, Mother, Grandmother enough?
I'm sitting here. Crying.