CUT SHORT
My friend Ida is 76. She is sprite, energetic, faithful, and witty. And she is dying from lymphoma. The other day she said that her dying has reminded her of girlhood days when she would go on summer visits to cousins who lived some distance away. “In preparation for my visit, my mother, a talented seamstress, would sew a number of new dresses for me to carry along,” Ida explained. “It was a wonderful time — getting to wear new dresses in the presence of admiring cousins! I would ration out my new frocks one-per-day and take great care not to soil them.” “Once my summer visit had to be cut short for some reason or another, and Momma came to get me earlier than planned. I remember that my biggest sorrow was that I had to go before I had the chance to wear all my new dresses. That’s how dying of cancer feels to me,” she concluded. For my part,…
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