I see her struggling. Doing every little things like walking around, getting up, sleeping in. I can see that it is hard for her to do things like this even with someone else’s help. I can see her squinting eyes, her skin wrinkling up, she trying to suppress the sound each time she does things like this. At those moments, I wish I could take her pain away and heal her. I wish I could tell her, I am right here to hold her. I wish I could stop all this right there. Instead I watch her, taking each step slowly, asking her to be careful. Instead I lay down beside her on a tiring weekend and let her play with my nose and hair.