do, then I would be fully present.
Three weeks into treatment, I had to travel to Seattle for four days of business meetings arranged long before the diagnosis. I prepared everything before leaving. I wrote Mom’s medication schedule on cards, stocked the refrigerator with crackers, rice, broth, ginger tea, and applesauce, and texted Gabriel her appointment times.
“She takes the anti-nausea medication at eight in the morning and eight at night,” I reminded him.
“I know.”
“She will not ask you if she needs help. You have to check on
