My first clear memory of my mother is not a happy one. It’s when she came into my brother’s bedroom and told us our father had just passed away. I was 6.

My final memory of her isn’t good either. She was in the hospital, unable to talk, unable to recognize me. It was just two weeks ago and the morning of my 63rd birthday. Even though those first and last memories aren’t joyful ones, I believe it’s the time in between — “the dash” — that matters. And she made all 91 years in that dash count.

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ROBERT ST. JOHN is a restaurateur, chef, author and travel host. Find his recipes at robertstjohn.com.

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