Dark Promises

The sun is setting and shadows are long. "I never finish a meal anymore," her voice is a reedy whisper. It's a dry contrast with prestorm humidity.

Winds gust and lights flicker. Growing up, we'd lose power during every thunderstorm.

"The generator won't come on until power goes out completely," she complains. "Sometimes I wonder if it was worth the price."

One Christmas, I had a Generac installed for her.

I doubt many Christmases remain.

Lightning accentuates a thunder peal and darkness falls. In those few seconds before lights return, I see shadows threaten of my world without a mother.