Today is my mother’s birthday

You would’ve been 76. Six months after your death, I’m still stunned. I’m just not in touch with what it means to no longer have a mother on the physical plane. There are so many reminders that: “Here is the woman who brought you into this world.” Now you’re gone and I still exist. In …

Gabbing At You

A rusted bell rattled and clapped deep inside the kitchen phone. Sabina gave Mother a look, stood up, and stepped in. It was Dr. Aikenson. Sabina leaned against the wall, twirling her right index finger around and in through the long, yellow-stained cord. Aikenson proceeded with his prognosis: “I’m afraid that…”