“This must be your grandmother.” I get that a lot. My mom was 42 when she had me, and although she avoided wrinkles until late in life and colored her gray hair a medium ash brown, she always seemed a little old for her age.
Now that my mom lives in the memory care unit of an assisted living facility, sits in a wheelchair and wears her hair white, our 42-year age gap is even more pronounced. Most people at the facility – residents and workers alike – are amazed when I say, “Actually, I’m her daughter.”
Now that my mom lives in the memory care unit of an assisted living facility, sits in a wheelchair and wears her hair white, our 42-year age gap is even more pronounced. Most people at the facility – residents and workers alike – are amazed when I say, “Actually, I’m her daughter.”
