Mum’s bad moments are closer together than the good ones. I woke her to get her to the bathroom, let out the dog, got her meds, and waited. I ached to help her, but I stayed my offer. She had tied the bow on her sagging polar fleece jammies and it knotted or something. She spent quite a few minutes, it seemed, getting it back to single ribbons. Then, she had to tie it again. Over and over she tried to tie a simple bow. Finally, she made large loops and got it done. It hurt so much to watch her reach this tiny success. She is so thin, tightening the ribbon did little to hold up her jammies. She keeps insisting she’s got too big of a butt (she is also quick to remind me of my larger shape!) and mum doesn’t…she is wasting away and every time she tries for normalcy, it makes my heart cry.