Ten years ago today, my dear mother died. She'd been paralyzed for seven of those years and was ready to go home. I was privileged to be with her for the last hours of her life. Since she brought me into this world, it was only fair that I should help her cross over. I talked to her, prayed with her, sang her hymns. Even though she was comatose, I'm sure she felt the love. She was an exceedingly generous person, always helping somebody---family, friends, neighbors---nobody was turned away. A more mundane claim to fame was her baked beans; she made the world's best beans and was asked to bring them wherever food was served. At one time, she jokingly told me to have "The Bean Queen" engraved on her tombstone, but there's an angel on there instead because she was an angel to so many people.
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