A year or so before my mom’s dementia took her mind away, she shocked me by stopping in front of my digital kitchen clock and proclaiming, “4:44 – that’s a great sign! Happiness, or good luck, or something like that.” Continue reading
Cereal and blueberries. That’s what I should have for breakfast this morning. But as I stare at the quart of blueberries sitting in my refrigerator’s fruit drawer, I change my mind.
Two months ago my mom died. Yet, it seems like she’s still alive, and like she left years ago. In fact, I wasn’t able to mourn her for the six years she suffered from dementia, but since she’s died, I’ve celebrated her vitality and misdeeds and shenanigans and mostly, her love for her family, in big and small ways. Continue reading
Mother May I
Mother, may I laugh with you, even as you breathe
out your last memory on the Covid floor?
Oh the days we laughed, once I was a child no more. Continue reading