Twenty four years after her death, I still feel my mother nearby. Her support never wavered. Her wise counsel eased me through very tough times, and her unshakable belief in me made me believe in myself.
There's an aura, if that's the word, that surrounds a person in their final days. A person to whom death is coming soon has a separateness, though surrounded by others. I've seen it, in friends who died sudden, untimely deaths in their twenties. I've seen it in people sick for many years. Death's approach whispers; but if you can listen, it can be heard. My mother knew when death was coming toward her at 59. She died at age sixty. My mother had good health insurance, but not good enough to cheat death. The best that health insurance can do is provide the means to a dignified quality of life, and a path to better health.
Still. Shouldn't everyone have that chance?
There's an aura, if that's the word, that surrounds a person in their final days. A person to whom death is coming soon has a separateness, though surrounded by others. I've seen it, in friends who died sudden, untimely deaths in their twenties. I've seen it in people sick for many years. Death's approach whispers; but if you can listen, it can be heard. My mother knew when death was coming toward her at 59. She died at age sixty. My mother had good health insurance, but not good enough to cheat death. The best that health insurance can do is provide the means to a dignified quality of life, and a path to better health.
Still. Shouldn't everyone have that chance?
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