de beauvoir is unflinchingly honest in her intimate account of the last thirty days of her mother's life. we move through the month together— the fall, the surgery, the cancer, the lows of the suffering, and the rare glimpses of light.

i have been involved in this exact scenario in differing roles— as both part of the healthcare team involved in the care of a patient on an end of life pathway, and on the other side as a family member watching someone you love slip away. it isn't pretty. it often isn't gracious. and no death is easy.

de beauvoir brings to light many of the questions and misgivings that arise in these situations— for whose benefit are the interventions that prolong life really for? is an extra month or two worth the suffering? when do you draw the line and let go?

some lines that stood out to me included:

"whether you think of it as heavenly or earthly, if you love life immortality is no consolation for death."

"how completely alone she was! i touched her, i talked to her; but it was impossible to enter into her suffering."

"she dropped off, and her breath was so imperceptible that i thought, 'if only it could stop, without any violence.' but the black ribbon rose and fell: the leap was not to be so easy."