In the Night Kitchen

the boyfriend’s in her room and i can hear sounds coming from up there i don’t know if they are giggles or groans or what i just want him to leave want to hear those boots coming heavy down the stairs and i know she has been away two years which means she has done all sorts of things she hasn’t told me the same way i never told mother only different because now i know what mother knew and what all mothers come to know in time

Alzheimer's

I’m starting to understand: the mother I grew up with isn’t there now—only the stranger who stands by the ringing phone and cannot remember what she is supposed to do with it.