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Tuesday |
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At the time I didn't know this would be the last time I saw her. I'd just put new handles and a lock on her china cabinet, which still stood empty, awaiting the formerly precious possessions about which she'd stopped caring after my mother (her daughter) died. It was time for me to go. Her short-term memory was shot, so each time I said it she seemed surprised. "What, already?" and she'd reach for my hand. We did this several times, then I finally turned my back on her and walked out her room, down the hall, through the door, into the car. Goodbye. It wasn't the end I had in mind. |
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