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My Mother
16 October, 2001
Author: Don Fraser

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     I was watching television in my living room when the telephone rang. When I said hello, an elderly ladies voice asked, is Blanch available? I answered Blanch was my mother and she died three years ago. Oh dear! the voice said I so wanted to tell her. This is her son. Click, and all I could hear was a dial tone. I dialed star 69 and they gave me the number of whoever phoned, I pressed one and I was connected. Maason Almagamated how may I direct your call? I explained the circumstances to the lady that answered, She told me that all long distant calls must go through her. And none had been placed that morning. I thanked her and hung up. But I couldn't get it out of my mind. I thought about about an hour, and then I remembered I had some things of my mothers in the attic. I went up the dark stairs, damn I cussed as I tripped in the dark, some day I'm going to put a light in these dam stairs. I reached the attic and straight in front of me was my mothers things. I don't know what possessed me but I started rummaging through her keepsakes, I saw an old box that looked like it had some letters in it, And sitting on top was a letter addressed to me.

    My mother fancied herself a fortune teller, as long as I can remember she told peoples fortunes with playing cards, She never told mine, and when I would ask her why, she would always say you don't want to know the future. and I'd let it go at that.

    With trembling fingers I opened the letter that was addressed to me, it read, Dear Son, I am writing this letter to you with tears in my eyes, within three years from this date you are going to have a devastating stroke you won't have the life that you live now, you won't die but you will be paralyzed for the rest of your life. I knew this terrible thing would happen to you, it saddened me to much to read your cards. Love Mom. With tears in my eyes I started for the stairs. I fell to the floor and couldn't get up. I crawled to the top of the stars and slithered down. My wife found me at the bottom of the stairs and called an ambulance.

    The doctor said I had a stroke, and I would be paralyzed for the rest of my life. Thank you mom for not telling me during your life. and thank you for trying to warn me. I can only thank God for allowing me to raise my children before this dreadful thing happened to me.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Ginger Fish (131.36.116.37) -- Saturday, March 15 2003, 07:32 am

Don Fraser

I'm not quite understanding the significance of the phone call unless it served no other meaning in this story but to give you reason to search your mother's things in the attic. I enjoyed the story nonetheless
 
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