I looked over and I see his shaky hands and despondent eyes.
This is the third ornament that’s been broken since we started decorating the tree an hour ago.
He won’t ask for help because his pride prevents him. I don’t say anything because I want him to feel normal again.
We try to ignore how advanced the disease is becoming, but it’s getting harder and harder.
Time is running out, but we just want to be happy.