Hospital with my mother

10:46pm. We are together. And that is important. She is awake now, watching something on television. I just finished a movie on Netflix. We have laughed. I have watched her in pain and felt my arms and heart cotton candy away not being able to help. No magic abracadabra in my whisper to unclot the blood in her lungs. She is my mother. I am praying and seeing her in her home. In her living room. Her kitchen. Driving her truck. That is what I can do now.