Albuquerque, NM -- I sit in the eery light of the nighttime ICU. The whir of machines, the beep of the heart monitor, my own nervous watchfulness keep me from sleeping.
Mom has been here for a week. I just arrived tonight.
Sometime during the night I heard her stir. I rose from my makeshift bed on the recliner to see if she needed help. She reached out with her eyes closed, took my hand and gently stroked, stroked, stroked it, for those few moments spinning us back through time. I stood beside the bed in my socks feeling small and weepy.
We're keeping a schedule, my sister, Chip and me. One of us on watch around the clock. It's always the nighttime when mom gets restless, when I wonder if she misses my dad, wonder if she feels alone, wonder if we're enough.
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