My father was awake before I was.I had fallen asleep in the chair sometime after midnight, which I only understood when I opened my eyes and found the room lit with the gray early light of a November morning and my neck registering a strong objection to the angle at which I had been sleeping. The monitoring equipment was still running its low hum. The window showed a parking lot beginning to fill with the first arrivals of the day shift.My father was sitting up in the bed they had moved him to at some point in the night, with a cup of something hot in his hands and the expression of a man who had woken early from a long habit and had been sitting in the quiet of the room for some time before anyone else stirred.He looked at me when I lifted my head."There's tea," he said. "The night nurse left a thermos. I didn't want to wake you."I straightened in the chair and pressed my hand against the side of my neck and looked at him properly in the morning light. He looked marginally bette
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