If you’d met G at the end of her life, you might have been tempted to describe her as “frail,” but a few moments in the presence of this spunky spitfire with short, curly hair would convince you there should be another word for it. Although there was no doubt that her cancer was depleting her body, her spirit remained undaunted. Her wrinkled skin had the markings of age and illness, but the truth was in her eyes: She was living what was left of life for all she was worth.

I met G (I’m changing her name for privacy…

Michael Lalor

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