Breath


The chair I’m  in  is directed toward my mom’s profile.  My back is to the picture window in her hospital room.

She has almost entirely unwrinkled, perfect skin, yet she is 77.

Her Kindle is on her lap.  Every so often, she spontaneously reads aloud a passage that she thinks is meaningful enough to share.

I’ve never known anyone who loves cookies as much as she does….and she is  teeny-tiny.  We keep bringing her cookies, using them to tempt her to eat non-cookie items.  It’s working….

Every so often, one of us mentions dad. She smiles a sad smile, and I know we aren’t quite right.  We are  enough, but we aren’t him.  In this hospital room, where the fight is on against cancer and heart attacks, he is so missing.

I’ve been listening to Kerrie Roberts sing “Keep Breathing”.  I’ve listened a million times.

Hang on tighter…a little longer.  Don’t let go.  You’re not done yet.

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