By Mary Mack
My mother didn’t like me. With girls you pay as you go, every day there is some sort of drama, but with boys you pay all at once. Boys tend to go with the flow of everyday living until you get a call from the police because little Johnny has stolen a car. Too bad no one ever told my mother this. Maybe if my mother had lived to know me as an adult she would have liked me. She passed away when I was 29 but died when I was 18, of Alzheimer’s, when she no longer knew my name.
Great observations. I love the way the last line was written, in particular Mary.
Thank you Rebecca.
It was a great story but a sad one too.
Many times the real stories are the sad ones, are they not? Thank you, Mary
A sad, but well written story. I especially like the last line–very powerful.
Thank you, it was a sad and unfortunate truth. Thanks for reading, Mary
“…passed away when I was 29 but died when I was 18…” I like it all but that sentence the most.
Thank you, that’s my favorite sentence too…..Mary