My mom died this week. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer less than three weeks ago. When she learned the aggressive tumor could not be treated, her wish was to not have a prolonged or painful death and to not die alone. She was able to pass quickly and it was peaceful at the very end. She asked for a back rub. “That feels nice” were her last words before she faded away. I was there for her final breath, and so was my husband Lionel. I called friends my mom had known for 50 years and held the phone to her ear. I was able to tell her everything I needed to say and she did the same. I told her she was a good mom and that I loved her very much. I’m glad we moved her from Michigan to Vacaville, California six years ago to be closer to me. She thrived in California and enjoyed having that adventure in her 70s. She met a lot of new friends in her senior apartment building and at her local congregation of Jehovah's Witnesses. She accepted Lionel as a son (and as her tech support). He had the patience to teach her how to use an iPad and make Zoom calls. The day before she died, my mom told Lionel she loved him and that she was happy we had each other. My mom would have been 77 in December. She left us too soon, but I know her final years were filled with love and joy. Mary Kaye did not have the easiest life. Her father died when she was 12. My father left her when she was six months pregnant. She did her best as a single mom with a high school education. She cleaned houses for a living and brought me along as daycare. My grandmother (who was widowed at 48) supported us the best she could. Grandma only finished 9th grade and my mom decided to go to college. She waited until I was 10 and could handle being home alone (it was the free-range parenting era of the 1980s). She took night classes at the local community college — one class at a time. After 11 years, she finally received a bachelor’s degree at age 43. She stopped cleaning houses and became a social worker. She helped some of the most vulnerable and invisible people: seniors with mental health conditions. She would lead field trips to the zoo or Taco Bell to give her clients fun and exciting experiences outside their group home. My mom loved Shakespeare, mountains, and sunsets. She always had a dog to care for. She made a mean lasagne and a hearty crock pot beef stew with dumplings. Her oatmeal scotchie cookies were my favorite. It’s a comfort to have her handwritten recipes. I’ll use them to keep her memory alive.