My mother’s recent cancer diagnosis turned us into the type of mom and daughter that talk every day. Sometimes I feel like we’re playing the part of two housewives exchanging recipes or styling tips, but we don’t talk about food or clothes. I ask her how she is and she’s deeply sick but quick to caveat with, “but I’m strong.” And I think, “but is anybody that strong?” Then, she fades because she’s tired in a way that you can only be when your body is dying. She comes back to and asks, “how are you, baby?” and I don’t know how to tell her that her diagnosis has changed more than our relationship, it’s changed my life. So I just say, “I’m good, mama,” because I know that I am, and probably always will be, doing better than she is.
housewives
housewives
housewives
My mother’s recent cancer diagnosis turned us into the type of mom and daughter that talk every day. Sometimes I feel like we’re playing the part of two housewives exchanging recipes or styling tips, but we don’t talk about food or clothes. I ask her how she is and she’s deeply sick but quick to caveat with, “but I’m strong.” And I think, “but is anybody that strong?” Then, she fades because she’s tired in a way that you can only be when your body is dying. She comes back to and asks, “how are you, baby?” and I don’t know how to tell her that her diagnosis has changed more than our relationship, it’s changed my life. So I just say, “I’m good, mama,” because I know that I am, and probably always will be, doing better than she is.