The Sense of an Ending by Catherine Jagoe In one of those coincidences linked only by time and place, my mother and Queen Elizabeth died within a few months of each other. The news of my mother’s death came in a call from my sister while I was at home in Wisconsin, on my way upstairs. When I saw her icon flash up on my cell, I knew to steel myself. It was late evening, which meant it was the wee hours in England. Her calling me at 2:30 a.m. could only mean one thing. I was due to fly out the next day, had known there was a good chance I wouldn’t make it in time. My mother’s breathing had turned stertorous—the death rattle—36 hours earlier. My three siblings were already at the house, taking turns to stand vigil as her life waned, at an uneven but inexorable pace. Reading their updates, it felt as if I were watching the lights of a city wink out, one by one.         I had read many of her favorite poems to her—Yeats, Keats, Dylan Thomas, Shakespeare—that afternoon via FaceTime on my brother’s phone. She was unconscious, but occasionally made wordless sounds, as … Continue reading The Sense of an Ending