my poor Mommy...
Into hour ten here at Northside, my mommy is finally in a real room and sleeping mostly peacefully. The surgery was a success, they tell us, and though there were some surprises, now it's really just a matter of how long it will take her to heal. My stepfather sits in one chair reading his book, I sit in another reading mine. My mother sleeps between us, uneasy but alive.
It's that last part that matters most.
It's that last part that matters most.