Hidden Strengths

I could hear Elizabeth’s voice in the next room and afterward she came out with a scrap of glossy white paper. Handing it to me. I reflexively folded it and stuck it in the back pocket of my jeans.

“Can I see her?”

“Of course, you can be with her up until she goes into the actual surgical room. Then if you stay outside, we’ll give you regular updates.”

My throat constricted and I could no longer form words, so I just nodded.

One of the clerks walked me to her room.

“Mom.” I said. Rushing to her.

“Hey, Baby Girl.”

I didn’t know why she still called me that. But it made me feel precious and loved. “Are they treating you well.”

“They always do, Honey.” She caught my hand and gave it a tender squeeze.

It was hard to imagine that this was the same woman who’d given up her College Master’s to raised me and spent many lonely nights working two jobs to raise me by herself after my dad was killed in a drunk driving accident.

Even while she was grieving, she was strong for me.

I remembered only