“Soap.

A soft sponge.” I stood there, not sure I’d heard right.

“Edith — are you sure?” “Do it now,” she said, “before I change my mind.” I went, and I filled the basin, and my own hands were not quite steady as I carried it back, because I understood that I was being handed something no one else had been handed in forty years and I was terrified of dropping it.

When I came back, she was already beginning to unbutton her floral robe, and her hands were shaking so hard she could barely work the buttons, and I did not offer to help because I understood, without being told, that she needed to do this part herself.