Hospice for Mom

Tony Covatta

2 hours ago

1 min read

Fifteen years ago: “Our only goal is Dad’s comfort,” they said, wheeling his hospital bed into our living room.

Nurses and our kids charged in and out, never knocking. Chip bags and horrid drink cups littered my kitchen. Furniture was strewn everywhere. At least I saw how to change sheets with someone lying in them.

One evening, exhausted, the kids and I shared drinks. Breaking the rule, Sonny gave poor doped-up Dad a sip of Scotch. He reached for more, but Sonny withheld the glass.

They’re here again. Will they change my sheets, offer me a last taste of bourbon?

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