opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com - Photo
Credit Amanda Greenberg
My mother finally closed her eyes amid the grim bleats of the intensive care unit for a little sleep. I slipped my hand from hers and sat back. I picked up my phone to call my wife but saw it was 3 in the morning. I looked at emails, but didn’t really read them. Then I remembered something my mother had said a couple of hours before, as we knew our time together was winding down. It had made me smile; and now I sent out a tweet:
“Mother: I don’t know why this is going on so long.
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