my mother was sick for 10 years, i never wanted to admit it. i sat there ignoring the fact that this woman a child of the depression was actually going to die. she grew up with the atitude that she would never take crap from anyone. her childhood was rough, her family were straight up okies. they rolled into porterville, ca. and decide to make a go of it. i have no idea what that must have been like, i still remember seeing a sign that said, "no work for you go home," leading into my fathers home town of lindsay. then you'd drive through and see a sign leading into porterville that read, "japs don't let the sun go down while you're in town," thats the kinda town it was. she was amazing one of the smartest people i have ever met. i miss her more today then the day she died, i guess i try to be strong, but it's not that easy. she smoked for 50+ years and her diet wasn't exactly healthy. she had 5 kids 4 of which in about 5 years. i have thrown a lot of blame on myself. it wasn't even 2 weeks before we had to take her to the hospital that i was yelling at my dad and threw a potato wedge at him. that day she told me, "why don't you just kill me." those words haunt me every day. people always tell me that's not why she died, but i know she died of a broken heart, and now there's no wa for me to fix it.