tap. tap. tap. she’s breathing. relief. the nurse steps in and says she’ll be right back. I nodded off. only a moment but thank G’d. surreal. catch my breath. looking again. she’s not. she is. it’s just shallow. am I dreaming. mom? she’s not. breathing. mom? I’m holding her hand. oh, I now grasp her hand. when did I let go? mom? silent. I lean in closer. I touch her forehead. she’s not cold. I’m staring. she’s staring. her mouth is open. mom? I look at the clock. 3:30am. I kiss her forehead. mom, I love you. I love you so much. tears have fallen there and I wipe them. Still. what do I do? what time is it? 3:35am. what do I do? where is anyone. help. I look outside. no one. i won’t leave her alone. so sorry mom. are you here still? was I holding her hand when she passed? did she pass. yes. I can’t remember? I saw her breathe. did I? once. that was it. did I? did I dream that. was she already gone? yes, I was here. I saw it. her. mom, let’s just wait here together. it’s 3:40am. Someone will come and tell us what to do next.