Without You: A Memoir Of Love, Loss, And The Musical Rent - Plot & Excerpts
Of course—she was too much for the hospice workers to handle, so she’d had to go. I was sure that Mom missed her. And then I realized that there was no gleeful little Rachel running to give me a hug, either. Mom had mentioned during my last visit that Anne would take Rachel when the time came. Well, I guess the time had come. In their absence, the stillness of the house took on an almost holy quality, bathed in the sunlight streaming in through the glass patio door and the windows. I stood there and breathed in the quiet.Tom, one of the hospice workers—a small, gentle, mild man with a dark mustache and slightly rumpled clothes—emerged out of the hallway and walked right up to me.“Nice to see you, Anthony,” he said. We’d met briefly, once before.“Nice to see you, too.”“I knew you were coming home today. Mary didn’t even have to tell me, and I knew. She was so up and happy when I got here.” He smiled as he said it, but his words didn’t sound right, at first. Mom was excited I was coming home?
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