Ruminations: Mom is Breathing

My mother’s blood races through me, gasping for breath, searching out the experiences she missed. Is there still time? There must still be time, she says. She conjures up my thirst for British tea, her favorite. She encourages me to eat onion and mayonnaise sandwiches. They make my stomach hurt, I whine. Nonsense. Eat them….

Prose: Happy Birthday, Mama

Dear Mamacita Verbena, I woke up early Friday morning, not really because I wanted to. I mean, I did, but not at 4:30am. The cat, Kitty, woke me up meowing like crazy, wanting to go outside. No, I don’t have a cat now. But my friend’s friend does. And that’s where we stayed this weekend….