I’m lying in Mom’s bed. It’s 5 a.m. on Sunday morning. Exactly 48 hours earlier, I was on an early morning treadmill before our Philosophy workshop at the MEA Santa Fe ranch campus when I got a call from Dad. My 88-year-old mom—who had lived more than a decade with Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis (IPF)—was on ...
Writing Mom’s Obituary

