Watching mrs mw suffer through seizures, surgery and chemotherapy fully aware that it will do little to extend her life beyond a few months. But knowing that she's too bloody minded to quit trying.
Seeing her give up doing the things that she loved. Slowly watching her spirit chipped away by sickness and fatigue.
The end of things. Helping her write her letter to the hospital where she loved working to confirm her retirement on grounds of ill health. Doing the things we've always enjoyed together for possibly the last time. She sold her kayak, she still has her bikes but I can't imagine she'll ever ride them again. Watching her say goodbye to friends.
The way she raises herself up whenever someone visits and then needs to spend the rest of the day in bed once they've gone.
The fact that her greatest concern is that I'll be ok after she's gone.