After the nurses expected me to give my mother a bed bath in the hospital I graduated to, “life before your eyes,” a bath at home. Oh my gosh! I have to get it just right with the water temperature, anticipating her fears because it's me that has to lift her in and out of the tub, apply the skin lotion, and dress her just right.
When someone you take care of dies, you tell one story to the cousins and another to the favorite nephew. You tell one story to the friend whose father died six months ago and another to the friend who visits her mother in the nursing home every day. When someone you take care of dies, you wake up siblings and poke them with a stick.