We, the authors of this story, are Good Moon’s children. We certainly didn’t plan to tell the story of our mother’s death. The story simply happened to us, around us and through us, as stories sometimes do.

In the afternoon, we sat around the dining room table. The nurse from Hospice had check on Good Moon, and now she was working with us, explaining how the dying die.

When Good Moon said that more should be written about dying at home, and when she told us she was pleased that we were writing down our conversations with her, we believe that we had her blessing to share her last days with others.