
Vanishing Act
“Oh, it’s my mommy,” she said as I entered her house this morning. I was not prepared for this—to be identified as her mom. On the other hand, I wasn’t shocked by it either. On any given day I might be her daughter, her friend, a school mate, a kind stranger. “Hi, Mom,” I countered. “It’s great to see you.” She gave me a big hug and we danced around the room for a while until she started looking for…something, this time by opening each of the small lacquered boxes that sit on