Raphael
“Mom?” I knocked softly on the door frame and poked my head into my mother's downstairs bedroom. Beth had moved many of mom's things into the small room, so that it still looked sunny and bright while being more practical and accessible than the upstairs bedroom. “Are you awake?”
Mom had the bed adjusted so that she was sitting upright. She had a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose and a magazine spread open on her lap. She motioned me to enter with her good hand. Her hair was coiled on top of her head in a bit of a mess from her nap.
I pulled a chair up close to her bed and sat down, taking her good hand in mine. For a long time, I just sat there, holding on to my mother, feeling heavy with guilt and remorse. When I finally got the courage to speak, my voice broke. “You
