Mistakes were made

New York City meets Munich


February 4th, 2006 · No Comments · Family

My mother died this day, after an arduous nine-month battle to recover from a heart attack last April. In the end, she conceded on her own terms when it became clear what she was fighting for was no longer the life she wanted. She told the care staff that she no longer wanted any medication other than painkillers. Within the day she was no longer conscious, and not long after that, she was gone. The hospice staff made sure that the process was peaceful for her, a respite I am sure she was grateful for. My mother was true to herself to the end, for once she set herself to a task, she did it efficiently and with a minimum of fuss.

As I managed to croak out as her ashes were interned at the family plot, my mother taught me that bravery is sometimes a quiet thing. Both my parents showed me the best way to prepare for death is to have lived your life deliberately and with full intent. I think the greatest thing I can do to honor their memory and their love is to follow that wisdom every day of my life.

Goodbye, Mom.

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