The toughest thing is that there comes a day when the loved one no longer responds.
We never know when that day will be. We know it’s coming. The last time we can talk with the loved one. The last time we will hold a hand and the beloved squeezes it. We know it’s coming, so we focus on each precious moment, stay present to the beauty and the suffering, especially because we know this presence, this exchange is a fleeting, fragile thing.
We remember that day when our father slipped into a deep sleep, just a few months ago. And now our sister has slipped further from us. She cannot answer us. She does not squeeze our hands. Yet we all remain present. We sit in silence. We read to her. We hold her hand that can no longer hold ours. We whisper our love and stories to her.
The nurses tell us how strong she is, how strong her heart is.
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