Noon, six hours before dinner
Mother and I were preparing for tonight's dinner. Roasted Turkey, chicken pot pie, peach pie, and ham were on the menu, a little too much for three people if you asked me.
Mother was just explaining the details she's been leaving out ever since she was diagnosed. Turns out the night she said 'I love you' was that night, she had said her final goodbyes with alcohol by drinking, which is kind of ironic. And ever since, she's been under serious medication and chemotherapy. I've never lingered in her room that's why I've never seen the dozen of prescription bottles the doctor had gave her.
Her shaved head wasn't for a scalp problem but in fact for her immediate hair loss in undergoing chemo. She was generous in giving answers towards my question but
