my mom was here with us in germany for a few days, or rather over two weeks, a sliver of time which in retrospect seems infinitesimal but while she was here stretched out like melted caramel, bendy and soft and sometimes suffocatingly sweet. she stayed in our bedroom and at night Ulrich and I rearranged ourselves temporarily in his office, sleeping on the futon that his kids use when they visit us. in the mornings she was up before us, her slippers shuffling on bathroom tiles as she clicked the lids on her face cream jars open and closed. instead of using an alarm clock i rose gradually to her sounds, familiar to me from back home yet alien in this apartment. by the time i emerged from the office she was either sitting at our kitchen table eating oatmeal and watching mandarin youtube videos (which i couldn’t understand) or standing in our living room with feet planted firmly on the rug, knees bent, her eyes closed as she twirled her arms around her hips like the propellors of a washing machine.
You are a gem. I’m so honored to know you. The way you see, it is all love, and you see the smallest components of life, the most important....thus your title has dual meaning for me. I love what you did with her hair, and your essay is a reminder for us to love our mothers, and as they age maybe we need ri love them like children.
The end is so touching! Reminds me of something my grandparents would on some occasions do, when either of us in the family a generation or two younger would refuse money (but when visiting them!) I loved reading this thoughtful essay, in its entirety.
Beautifully composed. I love how your mother knew exactly where to hide the money.
You are a gem. I’m so honored to know you. The way you see, it is all love, and you see the smallest components of life, the most important....thus your title has dual meaning for me. I love what you did with her hair, and your essay is a reminder for us to love our mothers, and as they age maybe we need ri love them like children.
The end is so touching! Reminds me of something my grandparents would on some occasions do, when either of us in the family a generation or two younger would refuse money (but when visiting them!) I loved reading this thoughtful essay, in its entirety.
I loved this. So complicated and richly observed.
I love all the small precious details described—that is what life is composed of and you captured them with such care and reverence. Beautiful.