Blind Mother, Crippled Wife

Illustration by René Magritte

My mom went to the doctor yesterday and when she got back called me as I was out walking the dog. She was upset. I could hear that she was upset and knew that if anything could make her feel better it might be me listening to her patiently, compassionately, assuring her that everything was going to be okay while at the same time validating her feelings of fear and helplessness and losing control. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything for long enough that she thought maybe the connection was lost. “Hello?” she said. “Are you there?”

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