nil per os.

while writing yesterday’s post i had two memories which didn’t fit within its constraints. i’ll list them now.

1. after sleeping most of the day, my mom got out of bed and wandered downstairs without our knowing (my aunt and i had gone into the other room). when we went to look for her, she was at the bottom of the stairs, carrying a tray with three glasses of orange juice and fighting off my dad who wanted to help her back up to bed. we hesitated and gave her space, watching her take each step gingerly, trembling like an autumn leaf. she relinquished the tray only after sitting on the edge of the bed. it took all her strength, and, once she finished chiding us for not believing in her, fell back asleep.

2. about a week ago, my mom broke her almost yearlong sobriety with a rum and coke. when i went to toast her with my own glass, i noticed hers was empty, then realized that she tipped her glass toward mine only because she wanted a refill. she put her hand to her mouth as if to conceal giggling.


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