
Fanny By Gaslight
“Hi, I’m home,” I say to Mom on the phone. “Where have you been?” she asks. Well, that’s a first. Mom doesn’t remember I visited today. I’m used to being called “Barbara” (her sister’s name), or even being confused with some other Miriam who disappears and reappears with alarming frequency, but to have my whole visit just vanish in the space of two hours, that’s unsettling. When Mom fails to recognize me, I experience warring thoughts: I should correct her and tell her it’s m