DEAR FRANCES By Frances H. Kakugawa
I heard you speak a few years ago in Kona. I’m now caring for my mother. I’m trying to write down some of our times together. Writing does help. Here is one that I recently wrote:
As she wakes up every morning with a tear running down her cheek, she says, “My Daddy didn’t come home last night. I was alone in bed.”
I guide her to the table, where her breakfast awaits. She’s so quiet, as always.
I help her get dressed, and with her baby doll she sits in her favorite chair on the porch.