She was 99. She died the way we all want to -- at the end of a rich, full, life, ready to go, without pain. And still I felt my face crumble when I placed a single rose on her casket and turned away.
My dad noticed this across the room and came over to hold me wordlessly while I cried.
"I thought you could use a hug," he said, placing his arms protectively around me.
"I could, dad. I could."
(Sent from my phone)