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At sixty-eight, she traded thirty-one years of hospice nursing for a forty-two-foot trailer and the solitude of the open road. Sitting with the dying taught her one profound truth: at the end, people don't reach for achievements; they reach for a face. Speeding through the pre-dawn darkness of New Mexico, she finally confronts her own. It belongs to a quiet geology student she abandoned at twenty, simply because she felt unworthy. Guided by past landmarks like the sparrow tattooed on her arm, she explores the crucial difference between driving away from something, and driving toward it.
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