In the rooms where we spend our time, we have monitors set up to hear Mom if she needs us. Most of the time, the only sound coming through the monitor is the sound of her breathing – whish, whish, whish. I sleep with one of these monitors at my feet, and as I drift off each night, her breathing lulls me to sleep.

In so many ways, caring for her is like caring for an infant at this time – baby monitors, lots of sleeping, help with eating and other basic needs. But at night, when I listen to her breath, I am again the infant with my mother lulling me to sleep with her lullaby of breath . . . whish, whish, whish.

I don’t know how I will ever sleep without her breath lulling the world for me.

Man's First Breath