I struggle to hold back the tears. Tears for all the things she can never have again, do again

The door is open. It’s silent. At first glance, I don’t see anyone inside. But she’s there. Lying still on the big hospital-style bed. I had expected the room to be much cozier, this small room that is now a home, where days turn into endless nights. Yet not even a painted floral likeness hangs. I see her staring silently, analyzing the far wall as if generations have recorded their secrets on its whitewashed surface.

“Nana!” I hear my voice reverberate clearly. She turns her head, and her eyes light up with a golden glow.

“Hi, darling!” she says, pulling herself more upright.

I lean in and kiss her on the cheek. Her skin is pale, whiter than it ever was. The creases have become more defined since my visit last year. She wears one of her handmade dresses. It is light blue, dotted with small white flowers. It reminds me of the beautiful blue sky she never gets to see.