My cousin Don died early this morning in California. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few days before this eightieth birthday and died five weeks later under hospice care with his children tending to him. A good death, as the saying goes. He was my much bigger cousin whom I saw at family gathers while growing up. As grownups we remained connected through his parents, my aunt and uncle, whom I visited every summer in Maine at their cottage by the sea.
A few weeks ago his daughter told her dad the story my mom’s last words, ‘Very grateful.” Lying in his hospice bed, he smiled and whispered, ‘Very grateful.” These may not have been his last words, but close enough. It warms my heart that Mom’s message is being passed on through the family.
A few weeks ago his daughter told her dad the story my mom’s last words, ‘Very grateful.” Lying in his hospice bed, he smiled and whispered, ‘Very grateful.” These may not have been his last words, but close enough. It warms my heart that Mom’s message is being passed on through the family.