tells me her freshly teenage son
doesn’t want to be seen 
in public
with either her or his father 
the little angel who
used to be so simple
-such a perfect child-
is ashamed of her.

She told him that 
it hurts her
while the father’s denial
is so deep he’ll
come out
hopefully 
when the son turns 
thirty. 

That father
-my friend-
is a lot like me.

Then it hit me
hard.

No, twice as
hard.

I don’t remember
the first 
time
I consciously pushed my mother
away. Avoided 
going somewhere
with her.

But what I can’t
forget 
is 
the last time I
took her to lunch
just the two of us
to a nice restaurant 
next to home. 

Trip of her life.

She could barely walk
though insisted we do
and so we did

slowly
taking
half
an
hour
on
a
five
min-
ute
walk.

She ordered her
favorites
like a dying queen 
like 
Cesaria Evora
smoking
to the very last minute
in spite of her
failing body
vanishing
mind.

Best meal we ever had.