love in the time of dying

Over a late dinner one evening three months after that day in the doctor's office, I asked her if I might write something, sometime, about her end. An owl had just hooted as we sat at the table on the screened-in porch of my parents' country place in a tiny Massachusetts town.

via theamericanscholar.org

Read this essay. It made me cry for the beauty of it, the truth, and the love.

Filed under: Beautiful Tagged: dying at home