By Phil Town

The nurse left and I was alone with her. She looked at me but did she recognise me, really? Funny – I hardly recognised her, once vital but bedbound now, her hands resting on the counterpane. She raised one and waved it indistinctly in front of her mouth. I approached. She fumbled her teeth out and I took them to the bathroom. I brushed them under the tap and rinsed them. It wasn’t pleasant, this daily task, but for her years of sacrifice, it was the least I could do.


One thought on “Sacrifice

  1. The caregiver’s story is rarely told; simply because it’s hard to describe helplessness, the basic day to day. The hope even in the face of what’s in front of you. Beautifully written.


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