Was that her last breath? I watch and wonder, how much longer do I wait?
And then, a gasping rasping rattle, she breathes again. And silence.
I’ve been watching the nurses say goodbye to her.
Her last breath could be this one… or this one… or this one...
The gaps are getting longer. I’m willing her to take her final step into the void, a wishing away born of love, that keeps me here, holding her hand, whispering, “you can go, you are ready, make this you rlast breath.”
And she does, stilling to her final peace.