My Mom’s Last Gift
From Chicken Soup for the Soul: My Hilarious, Heroic, Human Dog
By Kathryn Santichen

When an eighty-five-pound mammal licks your tears away, then tries to sit on your lap, it’s hard to feel sad.
~Kristan Higgins

I wasn’t ready to lose my mom. Even though she’d been sick for a year, it was inconceivable. “Of course, she’ll get better,” I’d comforted myself after the second diagnosis. She’d already done it once.

She was my favorite person in the world. Sure, we butted heads occasionally as mothers and daughters do, but hardly a day went by without exchanging a call or text. I ran nearly all decisions — career moves, clothing purchases, and dinner choices — past her. She was the first person I craved when I needed comfort. She was always telling me how much she loved me. I even had it tattooed on my arm in her handwriting. (Keep reading)