This page of “Mom’s Cancer” is about as raw and awful as they come. I know this wasn’t a compassionate, generous, empathetic, “right” way to think. I’m not proud of it. I don’t feel that way now. But it’s an honest depiction of what I occasionally thought in that situation at the time, and many people who’ve helped loved ones through similar have quietly told me that they sometimes felt the same, and appreciated someone acknowledging it. I figured early on that the story would be worthless if it weren’t honest, even if that meant showing myself at my worst.