My mom battled and fought to standstill one of the deadliest neurological diseases on the planet for 21 years. Two examples of her character stand out. When I was a boy she took me to bookstores often. I was looking in the history section with her as a boy of about 7. A young employee there came up to us and said, "he (me) is a little too young for this section, take him to the children's section." My mom stood a little taller than her 5' 8" frame and looked the clerk straight in the eye and said, "my son will read whatever book he chooses to read. Thank you but we are staying here."
Another example of my mom's character is that when Teresa, the other of my mom's caregivers besides me, first came to work for her Teresa was embarrassed about speaking english to alot of people because spanish is her first language. My mom said to her, "don't worry about your english Teresa, when you need to talk to someone, you can always talk to me.'
My mom realized that dying with dignity does not mean accepting an inevitable fate. It means fighting for your life. We are all dying in some way or another, so its time to fight for your dignity.
My mom loved a poem by William Blake:
He who bends to himself a joy
Doth the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in Eternity's sunrise.
My mom will forever live in Eternity's sunrise and in my heart forever.