My mother left home eighteen months ago. She disappeared for a little more than three weeks before briefly resurfacing. Since that time she seems to be living the strangest of all strange lives.
I get glimpses of new life and often find myself wondering if she just wishes she could go home.
I wonder if she knows that safe and comfortable place she might remember as home no longer exists for any of us.
** I get glimpses of her new life
ReplyDeleteGrrrr. I detest typos.