Everyone around town asks about Abby every day. I give them part of the story: she’s about the same. Closer to the truth is she isn’t thriving. She is quiet and comfortable, but has no energy, and is able to do little more than watch television.
She was is COVID isolation for two weeks at Ballard Nursing Center, but tested negative yesterday, and moved back into a regular room, so I no longer have to dress like the abdominal snowman in order to see her.
I bring her egg nog. I tell her about my day. She falls asleep.
There is no shortage of “I love you” from either of us, but sometimes it’s all we have left.
I miss her.