We do not believe in immortality because we can prove it, but we try to prove it because we cannot help believing it.
~ Harriet Martineau
In the winter and early spring of 2007-08, my mother and I spent her last days together.
She was 93 years old, but still mentally sharp. Macular degeneration had reduced her vision and a congestive heart condition slowed her down, but despite those issues she refused nursing home care, and still lived in the same house that my father had purchased for them in 1978 when they had moved to Rhode Island. She hated the thought of losing her independence; when I took over her finances after she received a $58.00 bill from the gas company and wrote a check for $5,800.00, her comment to me was that she felt like she had reverted to being “just a silly teenager again with no responsibilities!”