Safe Keeping

We’ll be late. Do you want me to go and pick her up? Mom doesn’t look up from the dishes soaking in the sink; she just nods.

So I go and get Grandma. I strap her in tightly in the seat beside me. I try to fill the empty space between us with idle chitchat. Her silence pains me. I tell her how beautiful the service tomorrow will be, of the many people, family and friends who have helped with its planning.

Mom weeps when I walk in with Grandma, and places fresh blossoms on her plastic urn.

Talk story

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