My new patients at the nursing home showed so much courage as they faced their difficult physical therapy. But when I compared them to Mama, now their age, I had a flood of childhood memories. I still remembered the first day of kindergarten. I watched as each boy and girl met their mother at the classroom door and left. I sat at the small table until I was alone. But I guessed that Mama would come when she was ready to come. You just had to wait until she was good and ready to do something. Even though I was already hungry for lunch.Why didn't Mama know what time school was over? How did all the other mothers know when to come? Why was Mama different? Now my sister Maureen and I were middle-aged. My family was still the same family, but in some ways the problems were now more visible.
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