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  • My mom died on August 31, 2014.

    She was two months shy of 71 years old.

    "It was the dementia, that's what took her life." Said one of us.

    "No, it was what the chemo and radiation did to her brain to get rid of the B-cell Lymphoma she had - that's what took her life. I'm going to sue the doctors, do you think we should do that?" Said another.

    "No, it was this..." Said the other one.

    "No, I'm sure it was that..." Said that one over there.

    Does it matter now? Seems to me what matters most is this.

    We need to hold in our hearts and our minds the way she was before the cancer, before the memory issues, before the cognitive problems, before she couldn't eat because the food tasted like crap, before it hurt to just have a blanket on her. Before all of that.

    She doesn't care now what it was that took her life. She cares that we don't wallow. That we don't sink into despair and knock around the "what if's". I know that. I know it so very deep within my soul. That's what she would tell us from heaven now if she could.

    She was the kindest, sweetest, selfless, loving human being I've ever been blessed with knowing.

    I love you, Mommy.
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