There's a science fiction story, and I wish one of you could tell me what it was, in which the protagonist is having an ordinary, but bad life . . . things like his mother dies when he's 9 years old but lingers a long time before, and misfortune strikes him at every turn . . . ruined jobs, devastating calamities, failed relationships, addictions, depression, then unending suffering in an unending illness like his mother, and then . . . a lonely death.
Then he wakes up in a bed of sorts, and a nurse of sorts says to him "Congratulations, Mr. Smith, your penal sentence on Earth has been completed. You are free to go."
Brigitte's sister-in-law died at 56 on Thursday of a brutal, long-lasting cancer. She was the fullest-of-life person I ever met.
But now she's finally been released. I'm glad one day they'll let me go, too.