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My parents were my 'dying children'. I learned about dying from my father. Everyday for three years I wondered if it would be his last. I regretted not knowing what I learned. Everyday for the following six years I wondered if it would be my mother's last. She benefited from the lessons I learned. Each day with her was a bonus. I hugged her at least twice a day. I held her hand until it was cold. Our second lifetime together was priceless. "Regrets, Dad" http://www.thelastwhy.ca/poems... "Mother's Wake" http://www.thelastwhy.ca/poems...

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