Processing Death

She was dying. I knew she was dying. She knew she was dying. Her family knew she was dying. We all knew, in fact, that she would die in the hospital. After all, that was the plan. But I, selfishly, was not ready. Cancer was consuming her body. Even with the full understanding of an irreversible process where no additional interventions were possible—even armed with that knowledge, my preparation for her death seemed grossly insufficient.

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