The future grows from the stories we tell.
The last thing I wanted to do was impose on her heavenly hereafter. She deserved some time to do what she wanted. I promised I’d let her be dead in peace. But eighteen months into her eternal rest, I needed my mother real bad.
For all the times that that machine let us down, failed to make our life much easier… it came through when it really mattered.
I discovered a secret about my parents and wanted desperately to share the story. But first, I had to weigh the rules my mother lived by against her last request to me. It was a transformative process.
