Mom: Did you say your name was Maren?
Me: No, I'm Joyce. I'm your daughter Joyce. We have the same last name.
Mom: We do?
Me: Yes, you're my mother.
Mom: Your real live mother?
Me: Yes.
Mom: Well, well.
She reaches out her skinny bony fingers and starts to touch and caress my cheek, my jawline and my neck, the very same that I'm so self-conscious about with my jowls and wrinkly saggy skin.
Mom: You're so very well-carved!
Ahhh, the unconditional love of a mother. Soothing even at my age.
