Losing a Parent
This account of losing a parent sent chills down my spine.
I step out of the room again, only to re-enter moments later. I don't know how many times I did the ritual, or for how long. From her side, to another room, and back to her side again. Maybe I thought it'd be different when I came back each time and she'd improve. Maybe I just couldn't stand to see her like that. Perhaps it was a mixture of the two. Hours pass as the organs slowly lose their fight.

I don't think she can feel me caressing her head, but at least it comforts me. I lean over to her ear again, "Mom, I love you." Her eyebrows raise, and her eyes widen. That's when the tears came. Only this time they were her tears, and I know she heard me. She couldn't talk, but the tears said enough.

My sister, brother, and myself held her cold blue hands as she took her last labored breaths. I can't really describe the pain, the emotion of seeing your mother take her last dying breaths. And I don't want to try, because I might succeed.
Read the whole thing. And send your sympathy to Josh.