.

I hear rumors: my mother is unwell.

She's lost most, if not all, of her hair, and many, if not most, of her teeth. Supposedly she has no medical condition besides for extreme mental and emotional distress, but I don't know what kind of medical treatment she has had. It may be that she is only seeing non-western practitioners, and using crystals to substitute for blood tests. I don't know. We don't talk.

It has been suggested to me that I should consider her health as a motivating factor for renewing our relationship. It has been suggested that she may not live long. I don't know what they mean, by not long, but I suspect they don't really know either.

This is hard to talk about. Not for the usual reasons; not because it is painful, although I admit it is unpleasant. I fear how this makes me look. I fear judgment. And so my telling is always filled with self-righteousness: a defensive tactic. Because otherwise I think all you will see is a girl who refuses to talk to her sick mother. Which is true. I am that girl.

(And, immediately, I want to follow that statement with justification to prove that I am being reasonable, rational. I am not cruel, I am not even unkind. I have suffered. I am right. This is the way the story always goes.)

I'm not going to tell you what my reasons are. I don't know if they matter. If it would make her happy to give her everything she wants, does it matter if her demands are unreasonable?

But can I give her everything she wants from me? And would it make her happy? And does it matter that the likely answer to both questions is no?