The view

"Come take a look at this view," I said to mum, numerous times, "You can see the mountains and our house from here!"

I thought the view would cheer mum up, get her out of her hospital bed, give her (literally) a change of scenery. From the seventeenth floor you van really look out and see far out and clearly. All these buildings, cupped gently by surrounding mountains. But for some reason mum refused to come, again and again.

"Why don't you want to see this...?" I asked, disappointed. I'm running out of things to make mum feel better about being hospitalised.

"Because... Because you dad used to stand there and look out the window!" she said loudly, almost with anger.

It suddenly hit me then. Dad stayed in the same hospital, though on the twelfth floor, the week or so before he passed away. Mum said he stood before that view for a long time, silent. He took in that same view of those buildings, of those green mountains, of the same sky...