I am trying to lean into the pain of losing you. Your rump collapses when you lean to pee, when you curl to poop, and when you turn to look at me as you walk.
Now I lean on my walker to help you stand by tugging on the handle of your Help Me Up Harness. Maybe you need more pain medicine. Maybe you need a different pain medicine. Maybe your time is coming to an end.
I must sit and rest, let watershed tears roll. Soon I must summon the courage to carry you when final carrying must be done.