My Mother's Passing

Ever since I was young, she had health complications. By the time I was 10, she was no longer able to continue her trade as a seamstress. She remained well enough to teach me her craft, allowing me to assist my father with manning the shop and completing orders.
 
By my 13th birthday, she was permanently bedridden, with ghost white hair and skin as if she'd never seen sunlight. Around this time, I noticed my father rarely leaving her room for hours, eventually days as he attended to her needs. Due in part to this, the family shop lost customers over time. Father seemed to have lost his passion for his work, spending much of his time and money on searching for treatments. Another factor was rumors of my mother's condition spreading through town. Our few friends and long-time customers informed me that many referred to my mother as a living ghost, and they were fearful they could somehow contract the same symptoms.
 
During my 16th year, my mother's condition had reached its final state. Anyone who had seen her in her final months would have assumed she was suffering from old age. She passed away only a few weeks after her 40th birthday.