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As she slept, above the humming of god like machines, her loved ones around her spoke. There were thoughts of laughter, and conversations of hardship. There were talks of final processes after things had met an inner peace. How family and friends would loose the ability of conversation, and forced to recall memories of the calm painting that was her smile.

Never have I experienced a situation such as this. Of family speaking finality of someone’s life as they lay before them. My eyes met a small crack on the floor of tile while hearing the grand stories and I got to meet her all over again, and instantly liked her… all over again… and miss her still.

RIP VR

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