There's a myth out there -- I think a myth held and cherished by a lot of men -- that women have a kind of innate wisdom about birth and death; that they somehow Always Know What To Do, and that that's why women always seem to be attendant at these crossroads of human life.
I wish that this were true. And maybe it is for some women. But it's not for me.
I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies. And, despite the death of both my parents, I don't know nothin' 'bout helpin' the dyin'. In both cases I am the emotional equivalent of my dad frantically chain-smoking in the waiting room.