I could not go to the funeral.

I stood at the very back of the cemetery in the rain and watched my daughter stand alone beside the casket, and it was the hardest thing I have ever done.

But there is a hospice near her apartment that needs weekend volunteers.

I have checked myself in under my legal name.

The cancer is in my lungs now.

The clock is running out.

But the last stage of the plan is set at last, and soon, after twenty years, I will finally get to hear her voice.