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In 2005, my mom was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's when she was 54 and I was 22. This SubStack is a collection of my writings through her illness and after her subsequent death in April 2023.
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All the flowers that you planted mama In the back yard All died when you went away
Spring is always exciting and strange, the way the winter air mixes with the promise of life without chapped skin and hunched shoulders. Each day I wake like the daffodils, unsure if these final frosts will kill me before we can make it to the other side.
But we are determined, both lingering long after my mother grew us. Delicate. Resilient.