When Kevin came home from rehab mum had a sofa bed set up for him. From the lounge room, he could watch and be part of the family.
Each morning mum would bring him out and sit him up watching out the window to whatever was happening in the street.
He’d smile broadly in greeting as we arrived for breakfast.
He told mum he would read the books on the self while we were all out.
Mum worried about him but was pleased he had some purpose.
A week later at his funeral mum remarked, tearfully, he’d only read three.