I wanted to know you before you knew what I had failed to be.

Failed.

Not sacrificed.

Failed.

That distinction mattered.

I entered the hospice program after Arthur discovered that you volunteered there. I requested no guarantee that you would be assigned to me, but I hoped.

My throat tightened.

When you walked through my door the first afternoon carrying vegetable soup you apologized for making too salty, I knew you instantly.