I sat with her frail disappearing body, talking of the shadows she can just discern in her now blind eyes. At times I sat silent and she said “Are you still there?”
I had to pull myself back from my reverie watching the wind move through the Leylandii outside, the birds darting between trees, nesting in January? I told her what I was watching, thought it might expand her sense of the world from the tiny confines of a reclining chair.
Davina Kirkpatrick- presence of absence 