Each time I think I have almost forgotten you, something comes up that makes me miss you like mad. Some nights, nights such as these I wish you were around. Though, you hated hospitals and I don’t know how useful you would have been in handling your Mother right now, it would have been nice to be worried together. We could have cracked jokes on death and dying, pulled each other’s and our Mum’s leg and nobody would have thought us strange.
We could have yelled and screamed, fought and cried and only we would have known how terrified we are of losing her. Without you and G, it’s too tedious to bring the bring the guard down for anyone. You would have handled the relatives with your sweetness and handled the Father with your charm.
But you are not here and I am our parent’s only surviving child. I shall have the privilege of watching them wither away and die by myself. All the time pretending that I got this shit covered.