He was intelligent, but I don't know, he always wished things were better but never made an effort. Do I wish that he made more money, buy us more thi...gs, make some friends, fight the world, and be my hero? May be, I did. Now I respect him for whatever he did. If he was happy being worried, sad, lonely, sick, I am happy for him. He died before I could reach him, never told us he had heartburn on exertion. He feared hospitals, but I wish he made an effort to tell me. I could not give him. She just keeps talking and talking and talking… * * * * * * * * * * ‘Here we are,’ she says. We turn into the driveway and follow the fence that separates the hospital grounds from the golf course. ‘There’s your little friends, Mike. They’ve come out to welcome you back.’ Mike doesn’t look up, but I can’t help but gaze out at the hundreds of cottontail rabbits gathered on the other side of the fence. They look so free, so happy, as if they don’t have to worry about owls or coyotes or the poison. More

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