In Grief: "I Think I Killed My Mother"
When we finally come to accept that suffering, impermanence and death are facts of life, we are freed from our unrealistic expectations, our grasping, and our subsequent disappointments and grief. ~ Christine Longaker
A reader writes: My mother died last December at the age of 94. I have been tortured by thoughts that I didn't do enough to prolong her life. My mother and I were extremely close as my father died when I was 7 and I had no siblings. For the past 20 years, she had lived with my husband and me and our two daughters. She was the girls' caregiver while I worked.
My mother was my rock and so devoted to me and my family. I admit I took all that for granted. She moved across country with us 4 years ago when we relocated to a warmer climate. I didn't feel too guilty about uprooting her because all her siblings were gone and our small family was all that she had.
A reader writes: My mother died last December at the age of 94. I have been tortured by thoughts that I didn't do enough to prolong her life. My mother and I were extremely close as my father died when I was 7 and I had no siblings. For the past 20 years, she had lived with my husband and me and our two daughters. She was the girls' caregiver while I worked.
My mother was my rock and so devoted to me and my family. I admit I took all that for granted. She moved across country with us 4 years ago when we relocated to a warmer climate. I didn't feel too guilty about uprooting her because all her siblings were gone and our small family was all that she had.
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