Sitting

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.