Six years ago today, was the last time I heard my Mom's voice, well, I talked with her. She was talking in the morning, by the time I got back to the hospital, from taking Fritz to kindergarten, she was in a comma. She said good-bye to my cousins, who visited and spoke with my sister, but was not able to communicate, once I got back. I was not ready to end our conversations. I still had so much to tell her and so much to learn from her. The thirty nine years were wonderful, but they were not enough. The one comfort I had, was that I had an opportunity to say good-bye. When people die in an accident, or suddenly, there is no time to say your good-byes. When someone is ill, even for a brief time. Their is some closure, because you have time to process the fact that they are leaving this planet and will not be with you anymore, on a physical level. It is a weird thing to go through, and you really do go through many emotions. I was mad, I was not accepting. I said "I would NOT be putting her body in the ground. The hands that kept me healthy and stroked my forehead when I was sick. The hands that worked so hard for so many years to provide me all the things I wanted, but did not necessarily need. My Mom had always been so generous, how was I going to let them put her in a box. I will back track next time to before she went into the comma... just wanted to rmember the last day, I heard her voice and said, "good-bye"