Published in


Letter to a Grieving Son

How my mother’s death was met with relief, and not sadness or guilt.

Thinking and Writing by Anyka

Iknew once Cheyne-Stokes breathing set it, my mother’s time on Earth would be limited. Not how I envisioned her living her last minutes, surrounded by in-laws and me. Such a sad way to make an exit.

I grabbed her hand while she fought to breathe, feeling how hard she flexed her…




We curate and disseminate outstanding articles from diverse domains and disciplines to create fusion and synergy.

Recommended from Medium

Christmas time, mistletoe and holy shit get me some motherfucking wine!

Talking To Loved Ones About Your Chronic Pain or Illness

Life Taught Me How To Change The World

Outstretched hand holding the globe with background of water, trees, and sky

3 Stories that Prove My Family is More Dysfunctional than Yours!

dysfunctional family

Fixing stuff around yourself!

Where the Birds Go


Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Le Voir N. Lewis

Le Voir N. Lewis

Writer of supernatural fiction, pop culture, food and beverage topics, spirituality | former restaurant manager & bartender | current Resource Planner in NOLA

More from Medium

My December21 Collection

the most magical time of the year

OMG, no more tarot readings!

Is Being Dead The Worst Thing To Happen?