Death & Dying: Photos of the terminal - lens culture: Walter Schels and Beate Lakotta
Elizabeth Kubler-Ross remains one of my great heroes.
I was 9 when my dad became sick and nearly 11 when my mom explained that I had to say “good-bye,” leaving him with my favorite stuffed bear, and kissing him good-night. Around 4:30 a.m. he died, and around 5:30 a.m., when my mom woke me up to talk, a part of me as a “kid” died.