Time stands still as I watch his chest rise and fall. I don’t move from his bedside until the sun begins peeking through the curtains, casting its first rays of light into our living room. His body releases a long exhale, and I wait for the next inhale, but this time it doesn’t come. His chest no longer moves. A calm fills the room. I imagine him walking toward the light and Sawyer waving at him and telling him to hurry up. I reach down and close his eyes.