My mom’s most recent texts: “Text provide a record of when messages are sent and received. You last texted me on Wednesday at 1:00 p.m. I texted you three times. I purposefully try not to inundate you with meaningless text or voicemail. I left you one voicemail on whether you wanted me to cook you anything. You are a smart and intelligent young man. Your memory is strong. Therefore, I am assuming you don’t want to speak to me. I’m cut off, just the same as you did to your father. Life is short son. I’m well aware that my mom died at the age of 57. Her mom died at the age of 57. If I don’t live to see 58, have I done all that I can to prepare you for life after me. I know that I have tried to within what help you will accept. I asked you if you would go with me to my neurologist appointment. The appointment is next week and you don’t even talk to me. I’m canceling the appointment. If Saturday night and Sunday morning text of whether I’ll take you to Walmart is all you can do, then I’ll do my best not to expect more. Love, Mom”

My mom’s previous texts in the past 24 hours. I missed just one of her phone calls:

“I left you a voicemail. Even if you don’t want anything, please acknowledge that you received it. I know that it may take some time because you diverted yourself from responding to calls or text. Just put yourself in others shoes and ask “How would I feel?”

“FYI Light snow showers are possible Sunday. If there is a “must have “ item that you need if it snows, I can add it to my groceries.”

“Package on porch, is it yours Silence Again *”