She was propped up in a chair br when I arrived for my first visit. br 'I'm glad you didn't bring the kids. br I don't want to frighten them.' br She beamed all over her cadaver face br Her clothes looked ridiculously big br Her head was hidden br in an orange scarf br br 'Ben's been so kind, ' br Her husband had philandered for years. br Left her the year before br but came back br when she got sick. br 'Life is such a gift' she said br Her smile filled the room. br br 'That music you play at school? ' br We met at the Co-op br a parent-run school, wonderful place. br Enid did science experiments br and they always worked! br br Music for Zen Meditation? br I'll tape it for you. br br I brought it next visit br and a red and green poinsettia - br It was nearly Christmas. br She was delighted br 'My favourite flower' br br 'Could you give me a massage? ' br I remembered childbirth. br Her back was parchment thin br skin over bone. br I was scared I'd hurt her br so I focused on the music br and let my fingers br play her spine. br br Next visit she handed me a Christmas card br She'd painted the poinsettia br in watercolour. br br 'Could you do me a favour? br Speak at the funeral? ' br I freaked out br Of course. br 'I don't want anything religious. br You'll know what to say - br Tell them life is a gift.' br br She died at home br with no drugs br and no drip br peacefully of dehydration br in a house full of people. br It was the day before Christmas. br br I wrote her obituary, br learned it by heart br and delivered it with hammering heart br to a full house. br br I still have her card br with the red and green poinsettias.