I was born. I suffered.
I suffered some more, and hopefully,
I won't die a painful death.
This is my life.

The end is only the beginning

I can only imagine the pain of watching a parent die is second only to loss of one’s child. I can't seem to find comfort in any truths that I know. She is in there behind those beautiful eyes. Even though she cannot speak and her body is shutting down, she gives me a little pucker as I go to kiss her. I know my mother is still there. That is the most heart breaking part. What is she thinking? What sort of calculations, memories, and thoughts are going through her mind? I know that she has pain. The drugs are taking care of that. I can only dream, hope - scream, that she finds peace.