When my husband realized he was dying, he insisted on taking pictures.
From the time I was a little girl, I’d been someone who collected snapshots in albums, but I’d lost the habit in those final few years of Brian’s illness. I was so tired, and we were so often in hospitals. I began to question the worth of almost everything that felt frivolous as my twenties wore on, like photos and decorations and even cake.
A few months before he died, though, Brian realized that death has its power and that people do whatever a dying person asks them … Read the rest