There’s a cool breeze coming in through the cracked door from the hallway where I’m sitting. The lights are low and the heater by the window is running. It feels warm and cozy in this hospital room. I’ve been staring out the window watching the trees bud out. A get-well-soon balloon waves in the air above purple carnations. The crucifix on the wall is strangely comforting. It’s sleek and simple and sparse. I can tell my mom is fighting sleep. Like most of the night. It takes over for a little while. And then let’s go, again.
A morning prayer comes in on over the intercom. I want to hear it but his accent makes it difficult.
The Reluctant Caregiver 