In 1978 a night nurse sang my mother out of this world. Mama was three days dying, and that young woman sang some old mountain lullaby, low, every night until the end, then she rotated to another ward before I could thank her.
PART 2 : “In 1978,” I started, the words catching in my throat so hard I wasn’t entirely sure I could get them out. I had to swallow hard just …
In 1978 a night nurse sang my mother out of this world. Mama was three days dying, and that young woman sang some old mountain lullaby, low, every night until the end, then she rotated to another ward before I could thank her. Read More