My mother died peacefully this Friday afternoon after a long and full 92 years. In recent years she vigorously resisted my efforts to take her portrait, complaining of the wrinkles that I thought beautifully outlined her strong character. But as I sat watching her drift away, it was her hand that drew my gaze. This hand that was the source of so much support, comfort and love is, to me, her most fitting portrait and one that I hope she would approve.
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