Three years ago today, my brothers and sisters gathered around our Mother's bed and held her hand as she passed away. She died as she lived: with dignity and grace, surrounded by those she held most dear.
I call to her at times, mostly when I'm flummoxed by my son and the demons he faces. I wish she could be with me and offer some advice. But mostly I would like to hear her voice and her encouragement, to feel her love and friendship.
I miss her greatly.
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