“Hi, Mom. How are you feeling today?”
She doesn’t answer me. She just looks straight ahead.
“Mom, how are you? Did you eat breakfast today?”
Slowly, her face turns toward me. Her mouth opens. I brace
myself.
“The muffle in the bad mouth.”
Nonsense. It’s all that comes out of her mouth anymore. I
overheard the nurse describe it as talking ragtime.
“What does that mean, Momma?”
“Sing sing sing for you!”
I nod my head, take her hand, smile at her, stroke her hair.
She smiles back.
My mother is fading.
My mother has a PhD in English Literature.
mm. this is good.
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