Then all of a sudden she looks at herself, her arms around her elbows. She took her son’s disease. Unnoticed the bubbles came up and she felt her neck, the softness of the puss bubbles.

“Mom I got it.”

As the two sat there, wanting to hug each other knowing they can’t. The closeness of daughter and mother. The mother, helpless wanting to help her daughter. Knowing there is no cure to what her daughter had.

“Mom I am not here for much longer. Will you help me dig my grave yard?” Together they did, on the riverbank and most of it was rock. The daughter did as much as she could. Finally it was about 4 ft. deep and maybe 3 ft. across on the bottom. The daughter laid in there and said,

“Mom, mom, cover me.”

“But.”

“Mom I say this mom. I know I am leaving you but I know that I will be with my son. I will go with my son. Cover me mom.” This were the last words the mother heard, “Cover me mom.”