It happened so perfectly. I never thought that I would use that word to describe her death, but if I were able to replay it however I wanted (assuming death was inevitable), I wouldn't change a thing.

Dad picked me up from Governor's School at 5:00 Friday night. Throughout the week, I had kept constant contact with him and my cousin Michelle via phone, so I was able to somewhat prepare myself to see my mom for the first time in two weeks. When I saw her, I knew in my heart that I would probably never carry on a conversation with her again. She looked awful. I really can't describe it another way. Her body was so consumed by the cancer that I felt the tumors simply by stroking her arm. Her mouth stayed open and dry, and she smelled like sickness. She breathed heavily, and her eyes remained closed. Despite all this, I knew that she knew I was there. I could feel it.