A woman lay on the bed in a small house in the north woods. An old woman, her sight was gone, she could no longer walk, she could not hear well, her world had shrunk to this small house and a few of her children and friends. She was 97 years old. She hurt, her bones ached, she was tired and yet, her mind was clear. For a time, she lived in the Caribbean, rode fast boats, knew heroes, defeat, and victory. This woman is my mother, and she knew some of the joy of life again as I read...