Foster child comes to save

I have many knots in my chest, all of which shapeshifting each day. With a few taking up more space sometimes, it varies with my moods; I don’t have much say. Life handed me one more today. And today’s was a heavyweight. 

How do you tell someone how long they have to live? What blatant lies do you comfort them with? No, I’m not talking about just dying. I mean, the painful, gasping, sort of raspy breathing. I’m talking about sunken eyes, limp hair, skin hanging over bones sort of dying.

There and then, I just couldn’t do it. No amount of courage would I muster to translate in mandarin, on how much time is left. All I could say was, let’s go eat when you get better.