Then I came home and became Diane’s caregiver.
The ordinary work fell mostly to me.
I warmed her meals, helped with washing and dressing, and checked her position in bed at night.
Diane watched me silently.
Sometimes I wondered whether she remembered what she’d said in that kitchen.
Nathan helped when I asked.
Diane watched me silently.
But asking became another task.
“Can you pick up her supplies?”
“Remind me after work.”
“Can you sit with her while I make dinner?”
“Give me ten minutes.”
Usually, ten minutes became thirty.
Asking became another task.
I knew he was tired.
I was tired too.
One evening, I fell asleep halfway through reading Ben his bedtime story.
He shook my shoulder.
“Mom, you missed the dragon.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
I was tired.
“You always fall asleep at the good part.”
I kissed his forehead and started the page again.
The next morning, I found his storybook on my pillow.
