“I can see enough.”
“No,” Mom replied.
Her voice was quiet, but steady.
“You can see my body. That’s not the same thing.”
The dining room went still again.
Mom continued.
“You don’t know what medications I take. You don’t know what I’ve survived. You don’t know what my doctor says. You don’t know anything about my life.”
The woman opened her mouth.
Mom didn’t continue reading …