There are still moments when I could hardly compose myself at the sight of two people enjoying a regular day together. A mother and a daughter in the kitchen chopping onions while talking about the whereabouts of the new neighbors. A mother and daughter sitting on the couch watching their favorite talk show on a lazy rainy afternoon. A mother and a daughter in bed folding clothes talking about buying new bed sheets and pillow cases. I can’t remember anymore the last conversation I had with my mother before Alzheimers. I wish I have told her some nice stories before she got sick. Something that she would have remembered so fondly.
If she’s still here and she still has her memory, I would’ve come home, knock on the door and tell her everything about my recent trip to India. I would want her to be the first one to know.
“Mother. Look. I’m engaged…”