Losing mom

I think she started dying on the day I started worrying about her death. She had been living her life as any woman of her age up until then. Then, one day, just like that, I realized her mortality, that she would, one day, inevitably die, that I would, one day, inevitably face her death. From that point on, time became linear, moving towards that unknown, unseen marker, somewhere in the distance. In a way, by my realization, I started the timer that would kill my mother. In a way, I watched her dying, one day at a time, as she lived.