Thank you.

The white curtain fluttered as wind gently blew from the window.
There was a small beeping in the background.
He sat on her bedside, sharing old memories and laughing at his own jokes.
She was weakly grasping at his hand, which he returned with a steady hold.
Then, she said with a fading smile;
"Thank you."
The beeps came to a flat noise.
"Are you gone?" He asked, sorrow marring his handsome face.
The tears he had been resisting finally burst out in torrents.
"Mom, I still have to apologize for many things."
...and I have to thank you instead.