“I have excellent eyesight.”
She would laugh, and for a moment, cancer would not be sitting between us.
The Trip Was Her Idea
Her latest scans had shown improvement, and my cousin Rachel had invited us to visit her in Oregon.
“That is a five-hour flight,” I told Mom.
“I know how airplanes work.”
“You get tired walking to the mailbox.”
“Then put the mailbox in Oregon.”
The next morning, she appeared at breakfast with her blue suitcase packed beside the door. So I booked the tickets. Window seat near the front. Wheelchair assistance. Early boarding.
I wanted everything to be perfect.
Mom was nervous the second we reached the airport. She kept checking her purse for her ID. She asked twice if her medication was allowed on the plane. When the attendant pushed her toward the gate, she gripped the wheelchair so hard her knuckles turned white.
