Her chest barely rises and falls. I watch it closely just to be sure she’s still breathing. She keeps her eyes on the setting sun, and I can hear what she said to me a week ago, before it became too difficult for her to utter more than a word or two. There’s not many things you can count on in life, but that . . . is one thing you can count on. It will rise and it will fall—no matter what. Don’t matter if you’re sick or sad. Don’t matter if there is war or there is peace. Don’t matter if you see it or you don’t. That sun. You can count on it.
