My mum would have been 82 today. She lived to age 75. Sooner gone than she'd been wishing when the brain tumour popped up. Not fast enough when the cancer went to her bones and she writhed in pain. Eight months from diagnosis to death. I am grateful for the years we had once I was grown and the kids were all upright and in school. It was then that we worked to repair, heal, and allow to flourish a relationship that was both loving and reciprocal. I am ever so grateful we got the time to do that. Ever so grateful.