If you were to ask me to describe in one word how I feel about my mom’s passing, it would be “confused.” Grief has rendered me incapable of writing for the past month. My mind knows she is no longer with us in the present, but my heart hasn’t received the memo. And thus, …
“Her enemy was hereditary!” “I’m fine,” is the automatic response I receive when asking how she is. “Not too bad,” is the response when I ask about the pain she’s experiencing. I know she is lying! I see her barely holding on to life as she knew it. Between the pain, the sleepiness and the …
“She realises as she steps out the door that she had forgotten the “item of clothing” that was invaluable to her. She knows that without it, she would be vulnerable to harm. She stops in front of a mirror, assessing herself, frowning. Her hands are clammy, and she impatiently wipes them dry on the sides …
