My mom's gone

She died Sunday morning and it was a gorgeous bright morning, cloudless, with birds chirping and traffic moving lightly by the small city hospital. We had come to witness her slow death, and even though we knew it was inevitable, we were paralyzed with sorrow. I looked out of the large window that had been totally dark in the early hours after midnight and breathed in the sweet July air in the weak early morning light. It was impossible not to be overcome by the irony between the beauty of the day and the death we had seen in her hospital room.