Other Voices Magazine

The Monthlies

Winner November 2008

Christmas is a time when you get homesick – even when you’re home. Carol Nelson

Memories

“I can manage myself, thank-you very much,” the woman said
stubbornly, shaking the volunteered hand off her. “I’m thirteen, not
incompetent.”

Her daughter sighed, patiently. “You’re seventy-five, mom. Remember?”

“Well, seventy-five, that’s what I said!”

Theresa took her mother’s coat and hung it in the closet. When she
turned back around, she saw her mother opening the front door.

“Mom, where are you going?”

“Why, home,” she answered, “It’s getting late.”

“It’s not late, mom. You’re home now. We’re about to have dinner with
the family.”

“Well, of course we are,” the gray-haired woman said matter-of-factly,
coming back inside. “But I’m afraid I can’t stay for dinner, my mother
is expecting me home soon. It’s Christmas, you know.”

Theresa took her mom by the arm and together they followed the smell
of roast turkey and seasoning into the dining room. There were two
empty seats around the large table, one at the head and the other next
to it. Theresa helped her mother into the first then sat down herself.
The four children all looked at their grandmother, unsure if she would
be happy or angry or sad. They smiled nervously, but she did not
smile back. She did not even see them.

“Sorry we’re late,” Theresa said, looking at her husband on the other
end of the table. “Mom lost her medication. Actually, she threw it
out, into the garbage, didn’t you mom?”

“I told you, I don’t have polio! It’s Sam that’s got it.”

Theresa gritted her teeth. “Mom, I told you, it’s not…” Theresa took a
deep breath. “Mom, you’re not thirteen, you’re here with your family.”

“Well, of course I’m thirteen,” the old woman said, insulted.

“No, mom, you’re seventy-five! I’m your daughter! These are my kids,
your grandchildren!”

“Be patient, Theresa,” Brian said. “It’s not her fault.”

“I know, I just…”

Theresa closed her eyes for a moment. This woman next to her was a
stranger that she had known her whole life. Patience was getting
harder. She looked at her mother and apologized for shouting, then
added, “I love you,” but she did not recognize the person that she
said it to.

***

_T.F. Davis is a prairie boy who has been creating his life story for
the past 28 years, with great success._

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