A couple of years ago on Easter morning I heard the bells of nearby churches from the back patio of my mother’s home.I can still feel the mix of sadness and celebration in the vibrations of the bells.I thought that,somehow,I could absorb the peacefulness and promise of the new day and store it away for future use.

I had recently entered a whirlwind of new and unexpected challenges.My mother’s end of life journey had just begun.And though I didn’t yet see it,her journey became one with mine.We were both transformed.The only difference was in the details.