My mother has been a frequent subject of mine throughout the years. I was with her for the last weeks of her life. As she lay dying, in a morphine laced state, she called out for her mother. She had one foot in this world and one foot in the next. I would ask her questions about what she experienced. She was waiting to get on the boat but they wouldn't let her board. She was being held back. Why? I asked her. She said it was because of her children. My mother was a strong force growing up. She was the glue that held the family together. She was strong, a fighter she liked to say. But this disease knocked her out. In the months that followed, I cleared out her home and sifted through remnants of her life. I replayed voice messages that remained on my phone. She always ended every conversation with the catch phrase "Keep your chin up." It didn’t matter whether I needed cheering up or encouragement or if everything was going well. My brother and I wondered about her curious choice of sentiment.
