I went in and leaned down he made eye contact. When I held his hand he held it back, not sure if it was instinct or recognition, but it caused me to lose it.
Bawled for about 10 minutes.
Told him I loved him, he’d been a good daddy, that I understood he needed to go soon and that I was ok and he would feel better soon. For whatever that’s worth.
He’s thinner, which I know seems impossible. His skin is yellow, clammy, hot. There’s no way he can make it out of this, in my mind. This is round 2 with pneumonia.
Not a peep out of him, except for one half-assed cough. Sitting there with his head to the side, nodding off.
And so it goes.
I feel like the one who's dying. I thought I was at peace with all of this, but obviously I am not.