My mom is sixty-four; will be sixty-five April the twenty-seventh. I just got off of the phone with her, ironically; a few people to be more precise; my mom and sister; trying to increase the tolerance level, making the bonds stronger, and as one would say, keeping the lines of communications open. This morning I went by to have a cup of coffee; since I moved here, I don't go by very much, so whenever I have the chance, I call and invite myself over for a hot cup of coffee or just a short and cordial conversation.
Usually I call home with nothing in particular to say; how is everything going, who's all there, what's for dinner, or did I get any mail; five minutes or so and say good-bye. One day it was okra, sometimes pork chops, fried chicken, sometimes gumbo; and she usually offers; but an hour walk over to her house or just as long transferring on buses, makes the acceptance rare.
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