It's been two and a half years now since my mom passed. The thing that haunts me, and comes to mind so frustratingly easy, is how it feels to have someone you love so much about to pass away. I can remember so many things from that last month we had with her. And so much from that last week. Things I want to remember and things I don't. I want to know why I can't remember stuff that happened 5, 10, 15 years ago that well. And the part that haunts me is I know I'll go through these things again. Maybe not the specifics, but the general knowledge that someone I love will pass on. I remember in the months that followed I felt like not loving anyone, and life suddenly became dark. Things have brightened considerably. And I know that life has been and will be full of happiness and light. But it's those hurricanes of darkness that creep up on you with such violence, taking so much, leaving you reeling. And now being a parent I catch glimpses of what it must have been like for my mother, being a parent, knowing the passage will be made soon, and the pain that will be left in its wake. I sometimes wonder if I'd rather pass on like my mother did, knowing the end is drawing near, with time to say goodbye to life and to loved ones. Or if I'd rather go quickly and suddenly. In the end what is best for our family will happen. I have faith in that. As painful as my mother's illness was for all of us, I know that my mother was completely healed at the end of her time here. One of the unexpected elements of the four years she fought her cancer was how in tune I became with her healing processes. In the end, for me, that's what makes this all bearable, the knowledge that all was made right.