Are you ready to pray? Josh asks as I stare blankly over his shoulder.

I laugh. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t believe it either, but I laughed.

Pray?

I’d been yelling at God within the confines of my skull for the past half an hour.

Prayer is too docile.

No. I’m not ready to pray yet.

So I let him pray for me.

And I ask you for the same. Please.

My mother was just given two months to live.