What Happens on Day 50?

I watched my mother die...we all did. Gathered around as she took her last breath, we witnessed the softening of her face as her struggle subsided, and wept as the battle was lost. Like soldiers, we are traumatized by the ravages of what can happen to the human body and we are joined by our longing for a peace that may never come.

A breast cancer survivor of 31 years, my beautiful mother fought to stay among us, determined to win once again as she had so many times before. It was not to be. Over the next days, weeks and beyond, I will write about her, my heart-broken father, my sibbies, my journey into the valley of grief, and my hopes for what is on the other side.

I will write about my husband, my daughters, a new g-baby, and about what happens on Day 50...