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ZEN and the ART OF YOUR MOTHER DYING

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By Douglas Imbrogno

The day goes by incredibly slowly while waiting for your mother to die. It was the Fourth of July and she sat in a TV den easy chair, propped up on all sides by pillows. She dozed most of the time, in front of an all-day marathon of old "Twilight Zone" episodes. My father watched and napped occasionally, stretched out on the den sofa, as aliens invaded the earth or people made pacts with the devil.

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