The author and her mother.
The afternoon we found out she had six months to live, Mom and I watched ”Hello Dolly.” My freshman year of high school, the same year Dad left and my older brother Bob joined the Navy, Mom and I had Streisand’s “Broadway Album” in the tape deck as we ran errands or drove to the Burger King by the mall for our chicken sandwich meal deal. Her hands at 10 and two on our Mazda’s blue steering wheel, she’d wink at me and say, “Just you and me, kid,” like she wouldn’t have it any other way. Читать дальше...