Once a week, every week since we have decided our dreadful plan, I have made it my duty to gently hint to Ma of her future. Today was the first day when she actually articulated it: ‘if you want me to go into a home I will go. You can put me anywhere.’ Said with enormous grief, eyes closed, hands curled. Dear God! I was steady and explained that she is much loved and always would be. That the future would not be as bad as she dreaded. She should think of it more as a supportive hotel designed for her needs. She would always be comfortable, cared for. She said, ‘I cannot stay here.’ I didn’t confirm that. I said, ‘If you were Beloved’s mother I wouldn’t be so happy you were here.’ ‘He doesn’t want me.’ ‘What about Circe, or Elizabeth…. Do you think they would have you live with them for two and a half years?’ ‘No,’ she shakes her head sadly. I tell her that I will be with her, I will make sure she’s okay, that I want her to live and that I love her. More importantly I want her to want to live.