Moving Day

“It’s like when the Nazis evicted us from Lodz” she stormed. “Who would have thought my own children would do this to me?”

For three months we’d planned this move ever since my brother Daniel walked into Mom’s apartment one afternoon to be greeted by the sulfur smell of burned eggs. He ran into the kitchen. “Ma you left a pot on the fire and the water burned out!” The eggs had exploded. Yellow marks spotted the ceiling.

 “Oh” she had said glancing upward. “I guess I forgot.”

It wasn’t the first time Mom had put herself in danger. Daniel called me. “That’s it” he said “Mom cannot live alone.”