Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I couldn't sleep last night thinking of my dear daughter.  She had back pain last week and had to take steroids and other meds to feel better.  She is so brave.  The suffering she has undergone is unimaginable, yet she perseveres.  Soon she will call me to come, and I dread that as well, because it means the end of her life, and the beginning of more intense suffering for her daughter and those of us who love her.  Like the Covid 19, there is no end in sight of the trauma.  I don't feel strong, I feel weak and afraid.  When I am with my daughter I will follow her lead, but will I be able to comfort her?  I guess she knows I'll try to rise to the occasion and be a rock.  But I am not a rock.  I am a weeping, flowing fountain of grief.