My mother died tragically at a young age of cancer.
I overheard her once one evening in our house when as far as she knew no one was listening saying several times, repeatedly, to her herself, “I am going to die. I am going to die,” as if an incantatory saying could ward off evil; or better yet, help her face it. She was obviously terrified.
Hearing her say this alarmed me.
Several years later, I shared this with my wife Janet. It seemed in a way that cancer had unhinged my mother.
“What was wrong with that?” my wife said. “She was dying.”
My mother knew it. I, at the time, could not admit or face it.
– Roger W. Smith