Ava watched in horror as her mother went from a strong, powerful woman to a comatose state near the end. In all the time she was in the hospital, and ...or as long as she was able, Ava’s mother wrote to her. She wrote motherly love letters and letters of encouragement.Now Ava was sitting in the corner of the room as people came by to wish their condolences. They had come back from the funeral where her father had cried like a child. She had never seen him cry, he was always so strong. All through. "Yes." he answered."I think I'd like to hear that poem. Would you read it to me?" She sounded uncertain, her voice husky."Yes." His voice was firm."Well then ... bring it with you." She turned and went on.Robby already had it in the pocket of his robe. He followed her.When he got to the studio she was already behind the easel, looking at the painting. He dropped his robe and went to stand by the column. The hair light was on, so he could see the words easily. She could also see that he was half. More

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