Last night my mother's rings fell off. She still wore her mother's wedding ring and her own, even though she had lost so much weight that they threatened to slip at any moment. When I washed her hands for her, she would joke that I wasn't allowed to steal them. They would be passed to me, but not until she was dead. 

I was tending to her care last night, and found them: one on the bed beside her, and then other had fallen to the floor. I put them in her jewelry box.

This morning she was gone.