My mom died last Friday 24 April, a little over a month after her 79th birthday, of complications associated with her small cell lung cancer, treatments for same, and a confluence of other health problems that have been ongoing for about the past 10 years. I didn’t understand her as a human being and I wish I had. I wish I’d been a better son. Easy for me it is to justify the steps I’ve taken over my lifespan to differentiate, but today I just feel a sense of guilt and failure. Sadness. Grief.