I would put the bags down.

I would start telling him what was in them.

And Walter would say, “Hannah. Sit down.”

And I would say, “I will, I just want to catch the charge nurse first,” or “I’ll sit down in a second, I want to sort this drawer out,” or “Let me just check whether they’ve got the DNR on file.”

Nineteen times.

There was always one more thing to do, and the thing to do was always available, and a hospice is a building with an endless supply of small correct tasks for a person who cannot sit in a chair next to a dying man for forty minutes without a job.

He never said it more than once a visit.