DEAR FRANCES By Frances H. Kakugawa

Dear Frances,

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.

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