"That would be a good thing. But sadly I don't think we're anywhere near that point yet." He sighed. While death had been somewhat of a lurking companion in the last years, it hadn't been the threat of a violent death for his mother -- merely the long, drawn out, quiet one of cancer. One they'd managed, if barely, to beat back.
He tried out everything for a moment after he was asked. "I think I'm all right now," he said, idly putting a hand to his cheek where the sharp nails of his first adversary had raked down. He wondered if it had scarred -- vainly, for him, he hoped not.
"How bad has the collateral been coming through?" he asked. "And is there anything I can do to help out before I leave?" Ever helpful, even when tired.