“Your mother is dying.” My mind understood the doctor’s words, but my heart refused to believe them. Only a few days prior, my ninety-four-year-old mother had taken a day trip to Reno with my husband. How could she be dying? Why now, God? This was supposed to be the weekend I would put the final touches on my novel before sending it to my agent. Too many circumstances in the past six months had kept me from diligently writing. Moving in with my mom after her stroke. Readying our house for sale. Packing the things of my own I…

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