I'm 56 years old; my mother's age when she committed suicide due to a rapid decline of her health after decades of dealing quite well with MS. No laws were in effect to protect those involved with assisted suicide. So, she did it alone, without telling anyone of her plans. I wish I could have been there to hold her and love her during her passing.
The night my dad passed, I had decided to tell him the next morning that I had known since the age of 13 that he was gay. And that it was OK. And I loved him for who he was. And he could stop hiding it to protect my 2 sisters and me from whatever perceived embarrassment, shame, anger, etc. that he thought he may cause us by coming out.
Since their passings, things have changed enough that my family's experiences might have been very different, in very good ways. The eternal optimist in me is, for the first time, failed me. I'm trying to overcome this constant sense of doom caused by the fear that our country is on its way to losing decades upon decades of progress that will greatly affect our quality of life. I do, however, catch little glimmers of hope from our young citizens who feel so much more passion about the state of the country, the world, and basic human rights than I ever knew was possible so many years ago.