Just before my second holiday program rehearsal with my Grandson’s preschool I stopped by to see how my Mother was doing. Unlike last night when when she worked hard to breath her breaths this morning were very slight. I opened up my book of lyrics and found one of my Dad’s favorite carols Good King Wenceslas. When I finished the last lines of the traditional lyrics:
Therefore, Christian men, be sure,
Wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now will bless the poor,
Shall yourselves find blessing.
Mom’s breaths had come to an end. She seems to have waited for me to give her permission to leave.
