The ability to know, to remember. A hint of recognition behind her eyes would be the warmest moment of happiness of contentment possible.
My father,most of the time, when he was with my mother and sister and I never spoke. He's dead and my mother is here but not. He's gone and she is.
To just wish them all to go. Away. Out and away.Out of my mind. Terrifying truth for me. Wishing for that-the erasure of your blood.
If God had a hand in this he is the most infinitely evil being imaginable.