On my mother
I think maybe my mother lived better dying than I have ever lived living.
In the last months I don’t know that she was ever really free of pain. She knew long before the end what was coming. She would never see her grandchildren grow up. They would never know her like she hoped. She was young… in her 50’s. She had family and friends and so much. It was so wrong and so cruel the way life finished for her.
It was so right the way she finished.
She lived. She tried to live fully. She wanted nothing unfinished. She made amends with all those she needed to make amends with. She thanked all those she was thankful for. She never used less days as a reason to live less on every day.
What follows is not just about her. I have known many people who have lived with…
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