I believe the end is near. My mother is stroking my father's head and praying over him. She is speaking words of comfort to her precious one, her beloved.

We have tried to make him as comfortable as we can. It is so difficult to have no control and to know there is nothing we can do to help him.

I am scared and nervous. I have no idea what to expect. I want to run out of the room, but I will not leave my father. I will sit here, cry, hold his hand, and treasure my final moments with him.