My Mother is Changing

She has called three times to see how our vacation went, not remembering that we've been back for weeks, I've visited her several times, and we've talked numerous times on the phone. I printed out my novel, so she could read it now, while she might be able to enjoy it, but she sees a Kinko's box on her table and doesn't remember what it is, nor that she's supposed to read what's in it.

I'm glad she's living where she is--she likes the people, the food, the activities--but her anchor to the world has been raised, and she's drifting slowly out to sea. Soon I won't be able to reach her at all.