1 Jun


It’s inevitable, I tell myself…but still, whenever I am with my mother–seeing her I am unbearably close to weeping. She is aging and seeing her sagging skin, and twisted arthritic knee sometimes angers me. I am angry because there’s little time remaining. And the time we spend together is not how I want it to be. But she’s 80 years old, now.

This Mother’s Day we just drove around the city. She told me why our family moved from South to West Philadelphia. The South Philly home she said was rented. I never knew the home there on Dickinson Street. Anyway, my grandmom wanted a house with a porch and that’s how she, my granddad, my mom and her three siblings–two brothers and a sister ended up living in the corner house on Parrish Street.

I drove Mom to Manayunk so that she could get some sugar-free water ice. But since there was nowhere nearby to park, we just cruised along Main Street and people-watched instead. I pointed to an…

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