I've just had a conversation with my dead mother and am feeling very weird... yet oddly happy.My mother, Pat, died seven years ago at the age of 83 after a stroke. She had been in a coma for more than two weeks before slipping away and, at the time, although feeling bereft of a loving, funny and kind parent, it was a release.She had been diagnosed with dementia and was almost completely bedbound with a crumbling spine caused by excruciating scoliosis. The time she had remaining had looked bleak. She had dodged some bullets by dying when she did, I thought.
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