These are my Mother's hands in death. A week in hospice was like an upper level college course on death and dying. But it was a week of pain and tears, laughter and insight in that very caring place. I was truly conflicted about recording something that would not deny the truth about death but be respectful of Mom. When I looked at her hands, I thought of her life in an instant-- that time when I was was five and we hit a puppy and had to find the owner. The time when I wanted to run around outside, and chase my neighbor Tony with a squirt gun-- but she said "No! Take a nap!".
I was with her when she passed. It was an incredible privilege.