After a long battle with Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis my mother passed away. The suffering has ended for her, and she no longer has to live life with a tube in her nose and in bed. She went in peace and that is all any of us could hope for. I on the other hand struggle and suffer daily now. I want to pick up the phone and tellher of my pain. How ironic is that? I want to go over to her house, as I did everyday and watch bad daytime TV with her. I want to tell her the same thing over and over because she fogot what i had told her. I want to go to McDonalds and get her ice cream. I look at my oldest sister and I think how unfair it is that she had 15 more years with her then I did. I now that is silly but I do. I am the youngest, I got less time. I know my mom would want us to enjoy life and be kind to each other. I have this struggling anger inside . I want to smash things, break things...scream. My mother had NOTHING else wrong with her. She never smoked and yet she died from a horrib
