On Assisted Suicide

Sitting alone in a hospital waiting room, watching the nurses rush by, I’d been perusing the old magazines, and doing my best not to cry... When there, on a page, was a scar that I knew was certainly caused by a tear, As off in a faraway room lay my mother...not struggling to live - but to die... Doing what Dad had encouraged her to...explaining the reason for why... And Mom had agreed there was no other way she could possibly get there from here.