I thought that we would have time to sit and talk. You could tell me things you had experienced that I was finally ready to hear. I could help you know how very much I had wanted you, loved you and believed in you.

I thought you would finally beat those addictions that held you captive. You would care for me in my old age doing things your brothers could not do.

We could share our mutual love and pride in your precious children. That we could scrapbook old photos and divide them up for the kids to keep.

That you would finally really know how deeply I loved you no matter what.

. . . and then you died.