since Friday

comas, hospice, fleeting lucid hours, new speaking voices, rules for swallowing, sloughs full of white egrets, power outages, hallucinations of shared walls and men walking on roofs, nectar consistencies, email from a stranger: I have your photographs, journals and personal things, jaw pain, loss of hearing, return of hearing, "woman cured by hummus" joke, storage space auctioned off our things, up at 3 a.m. and every two hours, dividing jewelry, drinking last good bottle of wine, Sattui Zinfandel 1995, remembering what we did that year, dementia, manicures, skin breaking down, name your favorite animal, tremors, slight baseball attention, shaky penmanship, denial, morphine, name a person you know who reminds you of the color yellow, "gone from my sight" manual, throwing pillows, shifting, transfers, contant phones, mute chaplaincy, emptying drawers, forgetting, getting dog to stop barking, pureed turkey, keeping phones off and out of sight, forgetting rules about swallowing and standing.