It’s time to say good-bye to him, says my sister again and again, the day she becomes a widow.
She says it to her husband’s father on speakerphone. Son, comes the voice, enfeebled
by distance. The air thrums with insistence of impotent machines. Do you want to say
you love him? my sister urges, relentless. She holds the phone to her husband’s eyes
which have closed against it. Of course I do, says his father and then his father says nothing.