On Thursday, time suspended. The four hours Dad begged to die, to go to heaven, will be known as the worst day of my life. I can't think of anything that tops this. It will also be known as the day I learn about my strength, my purpose, and how much I appreciate the past three years of mindfulness and awareness practice.
Turns out? All those monks, self-help books, and scientific studies are right. Being present, and aware, can literally prevent suffering.