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.