Got the news shortly before she died. Begged, borrowed and scraped the money to fly from California to Texas. As I made my way into the hospital room, the family was gathered around the poor, pitiful, barely living remains of once strong woman who was my mother. She looked at me and said "my baby". Then, her mind and soul departed and left the shell of her being supported by machines and medicine as cancer ravished her body.
Body alive, spirit gone, my reward was having to tell the doctor to pull the plug since rest of family just "couldn't bear to do it." Naturally, that just makes me the bastard of the family, eh? But, in my heart I know she wanted release, and my duty as her son was done. She held on just long enough to tell me those 2 sweet words... That's the power of a mother's love:)