I just looked at her, marveling at her strength. Where was she mustering the courage to give her only child permission to die? I was not quite ready to go there. So I just sat there, on the other side of him, grasping his hand, fiddling with his wedding ring, keeping his lips moistened with the spongy Q-tips. Fixating on every one of his precious breaths. The evening wore on, and Kit’s breath output declined further. Marilyn continued to follow the hospice rulebook to the letter, letting Kit know he could pass on when he was ready and not to worry about us. Bob, meanwhile, toggled between the
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