On the morning you administered medical assistance in dying (MAiD) to my mother, you kindly and gently explained what we could expect. You reassured us that she would feel no pain, but rather drift off to sleep quickly. You entered my mother’s room and greeted her warmly. You took in the scene: family members sitting in every chair that was permitted to be in the hospital room. You graciously turned down the glass of scotch we offered you — the scotch we poured to toast my mother. You knelt beside the bed, holding my mother’s hand, and asked her whether she wished to go ahead. She assented. You encouraged us to embrace her as she took her final breaths. When my mother died, you leaned down to the bed where my sister and I lay, holding our mother, and quietly informed us that she had passed. And at our request, you opened the window so that her soul could escape the hospital room. With utmost respect, you fulfilled my mother’s final wish — to die with dignity.
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