sometimes bad

I heard your mom is not doing well. And my friend, I know it must weigh heavy on you so please let me shoulder some of the burden. If I can smile through your dimly lit outlook, I am happy to though I know it must be sad.

You're going home to see her. To pile together the moments that remain. But they are not what you have left. They are grand minutes, gifted to you by the foresight of a cold machine. A diagnostic reminder to enjoy.

There is no death here. Only life as it changes. Lay close. Be sad. Be brave. Allow me the honor of knowing how you are, the grace of your permission to feel for you. Even if it means moving back or looking away. My heart faces forward.