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ph.d. in creative writing

Today I witnessed the most intense form of love and gratitude for mothers. I watched my beautiful grandmother die. I watched my mother and her brother care for her round the clock. I watched them administer her medicines and clean her. I watched them stand over her bed and watched my mother stroke her hair as she died.

Yesterday I listened to my mother read her old letters that my grandfather wrote to his “dear Wifey” when he was overseas during WWII. In the letters he said he hoped they would be back together soon and be together forever. They were together until he died this past January, a week shy of their 70th anniversary.

It seems appropriate that my grandmother died this morning, on Mother’s Day. It also happens to be the birthday of her oldest son who died over thirty years ago. We all hope they are having…

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