Loss.

We lost a mother in our family today. We also lost a story. A voice. A life waiting to be found.

We mourn because we know we did not care enough. When she lived her story, spoke her voice and sent her smoke signals into a deaf world.

Maybe we will take enough care next time. Trying to avoid dying with our own unacknowledged story. Unheard and uncared for.

Or not?

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