I always thought that I would write an obituary for my mother, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Joan Farrell McArdle was only 78 when she died last week after a short illness, holding the hands of both her daughters. We had no warning that the end was upon us until it was almost there; a week earlier, she had been planning her garden and what she would cook when she got home from the hospital.
OpinionWhy I’ve spent the days after my mother’s death polishing copper pots
April 7, 2023 at 7:30 a.m. EDT