Bags of Our Mothers

As I was wandering through Costco (I believe that I have alluded to, if not directly mentioned, this sickness that I have), I heard someone call my name. I turned around and there was this little old woman - really, little and old and woman - who I have known practically all my life; she is a good friend of my mother's. So, "I'm here avec your mom, but I said, 'I don't care; I'm going to say hello.'" And she did, and she wagged her little-old-lady finger at me and made certain that I understood, "If you see me and I don't see you, you come and tell me hello!" And I will, and I am grateful.

All I knew was that in not speaking to her, it felt as if I were storing nuts or bullets. I grew stronger every day.

alice sebold

the almost moon