“If I am patient, Grace will grant me these briefest interims, where we find each other again”

What happens when we sit near to ones we love? What is passed between us beneath the words and the responses, the gestures and the nods? What is exchanged in the in-between, the interstitial spaces, the pauses, the interludes, the downbeats?

Truth, love, fear, grief, joy, eternity.

All of us and all of them, passed between us as breath. Presence is found in this quiet, almost emptiness. It is a hard place to rest, so full of vulnerability. Dementia led me here, to hold on to those I love after it had taken from them their memories, their words, my reflection in their eyes. If I am patient, Grace will grant me these briefest interims, where we find each other again, no longer strangers but mother and daughter, brother and sister.