I am at a loss for words to describe how I felt over the last week of my mother’s life at the hospital. When I came across this passage I knew I could not do better.
I held her hand, I stroked her hair and wiped her eyes, wanting so much for them to open and see, that I was alone there in the world, one last time I kissed your face and held your hand to touch my cheek. I wanted to carry you away from there. Whispered her goodbye, and the last breath as I watched her die…..And I walked away - my heart now broken. How could they know that I was dying inside?