My mother died in December. She was 94. Last Saturday, a week ago today, was her 95th birthday. She was ready to go. I miss her.
My brother died in 2009. He was 60. He was not ready to go. While we didn’t see each other often, I miss him too.
My dad died in 1997. We were the apple of each other’s eye. I still miss him.
There were four of us when I was growing up. Now it’s just me. I’m getting used to it. There’s no more buffer. Ready or not,