When my elderly mother was fading, she endured a lengthy hospital stay. They discovered her virulent lung cancer had returned. So, I moved her to a nice nursing home where I visited for dinner.
She was always tiny, but now stooped, in her familiar dressing gown because she wasn’t going anywhere. Mom was not happy to be eating with a large crowd of noisy strangers. She gave them her side-eye. That didn’t work anymore.
I tried to make a joke about our reversed roles. “Eat your beans,” I said, “they’re good for you.” She didn’t get it. She ate them.
In her private room, I was determined to bring up the subject I’d been dreading since the doctor’s meeting. “Mom,” I said….
But she interrupted. “Shhh, ‘Jeopardy’s’ on.”
After, I took a deep breath to talk about the beloved apartment she and Dad selected together years before, the one overlooking the ocean,…
