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Selected
Excerpts
The
Beginning
The
Tumultuous Years
Vision
Quest
Losses
Pastoral
Care
The
Transition
The
Process
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I
remember bending down to take some dirt into my right hand and a white
rose in the other. Gently, I threw them into the grave. I stayed until
the old man had finished [burying my mother]. ... A handful of dirt
and a white rose thrown into the grave brought home the realization
that she was really gone, and I had never had the chance to say goodbye.
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