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Mother

A Story Every Day in 2024 June 6th 158/366

By Rachel DeemingPublished 14 days ago Updated 14 days ago 2 min read
Mother
Photo by Jeremy Wong on Unsplash

"I don't want to!"

"But you have to! You can't continue like this!"

Moira had had another call. Mother had fallen again. She had been found by the neighbour who had heard her faint calls that morning. Luckily, Moira had had the foresight to give the neighbour her number.

The previous time she'd fallen, the postman had looked through the letterbox to see Mother sprawled on the runner in the hallway and called the police who had managed to glean from Mother there was a daughter called Moira who lived near the Co-op. It was never nice to find policemen at the door, unless they were strippers.

Concentrate, Moira!

She had drifted because she didn't want to have this difficult conversation with Ken, her husband who was insisting that Mother go into a home.

"Moira, love. You're not doing it to be cruel. You're doing it to make sure that she's safe."

Moira was biting her lip, listening to Ken and hating the way that her gut was tightening at the thought of telling Mother that she was giving up on her. Because that is how Mother would view it.

"She has to realise that you can't be there 24-7. You've got a job and other responsibilities."

Ken was looking out for her, she knew. Moira just didn't want to have to tell Mother.

*

Mother was small in the big, white bed propped by pillows. She looked like a stick on a fluffy cloud. Pathetic. Moira's gut churned.

"Hello, Mother," she said and pulled up a chair, taking a deep breath.

"When can I go home?" No greeting. Cut straight to the chase as always.

Moira felt a spike of anger and used it to plough on.

"Well, that's just it, Mother. I don't think they'll let you go home. You need to be cared for."

Mother looked horrified. "Not a home, Moira. No! Not that!"

Moira continued. "It's for the best."

To her horror, a tear fell down her mother's cheek. This was unheard of.

"Can't I come and live with you?"

The screw of guilt tightened, penetrating Moira's heart and presenting a dilemma that she'd feared:

Choose between her mother or her marriage.

***

366 words

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

158/366

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About the Creator

Rachel Deeming

Storyteller. Poet. Reviewer. Traveller.

I love to write. Check me out in the many places where I pop up:

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Comments (5)

  • Caroline Craven12 days ago

    Gosh Rachel you are the absolute best at writing these ‘conflict’ stories. You’re so clever at making the reader feel for all the characters. Also - this is my favourite line this week: It was never nice to find policemen at the door, unless they were strippers.

  • D.K. Shepard14 days ago

    This was hard hitting! As a newlywed with parents in their 70s I found Moira’s dilemma very compelling. Wonderfully crafted, Rachel! You have such a keen sense within these micros of where to start the story and how to develop the characters in such an engrossing way

  • M. A. Mehan 14 days ago

    Oh man this one hit close to home. My grandma fell last night and got pretty banged up 😭 She's stubborn as a mule but hopefully this will help her realize she does need help.

  • John Cox14 days ago

    An impossible situation, that’s for sure. The emotional, psychological and physical costs to the caregiver in these circumstances are staggering.

  • I'm just so glad I don't plan on getting married. This way, I can care for my parents without having any dilemma. Poor Moira though. I feel sad for her mom too

Rachel DeemingWritten by Rachel Deeming

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