When Their Mother Needed Care, Only the Youngest Daughter Stayed

Three framed pictures.

One little ceramic bird from the windowsill.

When I carried the blanket into my apartment, my mother touched it and smiled.

“I made this the winter your oldest brother had pneumonia,” she said.

I spread it over the couch.

It made the room feel less temporary.

That night I helped her wash up at the sink.

She kept saying, “I can do it.”

I kept saying, “I know.”

That became our conversation for weeks.

I can do it.

I know.