Pick a Room
She died on September 21, 2024. My father, two of my sisters, two of my sisters-esque, my brother-in-law, and I were holding her hands, rubbing her legs, stroking her face, and telling her how loved she was when the last bit of her air left the room. It was a beautiful passing. And it was terrifying for me. I will never see her again.
Who told you that your story doesn’t matter?
When I speak with groups around the South Shore about the importance of personal storytelling, I remind each woman that her story is part of a collection that shapes history.
