Closet

November 28, 2016

Closet

Mom sailed into the room and went straight to my closet.  

“Why are you hiding wine in your closet?!”

“I’m not hiding it.  I buy bottles in case I need wine for parties.”

She groped a purple dress on its hanger.  “What’s this?!?”

“A dress.”  

“What’s this??”

“A shirt.  Why are you poking around in my closet?”

She turned to me.  “I had a dream that you were hiding our checkbook in your closet.  We order checkbook.  They haven’t come in the mail yet.”  

Pause.

“Are you hiding them in your closet?”

“Yes,” I said.  “Why would I hide your checkbooks in my closet?”

“It was in my dream,” she replied.




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Several years ago, Mom and I visited Japan during cherry blossom season.  While there, Mom found out that her mom had cancer and was awaiting surgery in the hospital.

That night, Mom lay on the bed in our room at the ryokan.  “Emmie, my mom is sick . . . what if I lose her?” she asked.  

I tried to think of something kind and comforting to say.

“Well, she is 86,” I said.