Ten days before she died, we shared one last long conversation filled with laughter, tears, tenderness, and the words that mattered most.

Today, my mom would have turned 82. But she passed away earlier this year, on February 8. On Thursday, January 29, I stayed up late typing up a conversation I’d had with her that night because it felt so meaningful and important.

She’d been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer in mid-November and was receiving hospice care at home. Brain swelling and seizures had affected her ability to move and communicate. I didn’t know that night would be our last extended conversation—the last time she would be able to speak in full sentences, albeit short and slow ones.