We shared our last conversation between the blinking lights of IV’s and the chattering of nurses. I asked her if I could do anything. She flashed me a weak smile, and said, “Just make the sun stay up longer for me.” I squeezed her hand, not too tight, just enough to say *I love you*. It’s all I could manage. She was so strong - so strong compared to me - so strong to smile as each breath became shallower, heavier, and more laboured. My words, my letters, my syllables – they remained buri..