Mama in the Middle

It’s almost nine p.m. I’ve just hurtled 25 miles through the night to check on Ma because she didn’t answer the phone. One part of me is filled dread, while…

I’ve just put on broth for chicken soup. The house is unusually quiet for 6 p.m., with Zoë at work on math problems and her little sister Cleo in the…

“Ma? Do you know where the old Halloween stuff is?” I have arrived early at my childhood home in Martinez to take Ma to her Alzheimer’s checkup. I’ve just thought…

One Friday night, Ma says she needs to ask me something. “Okay.” I say, “What’s up?” “Wait — I have to find my notes.” I wait while she searches all…

One morning in 2001, I became a Mama in the Middle. My relationship with my mom had changed over the years, but my role as her caretaker was formalized in…

If you call me on a Friday night, six-year-old Zoë will probably pick up the phone. Without saying hello, she will yell over the Glen Miller blasting in the dining…