Ma

The silver lining of the pandemic was getting to care for her.

I listened for the car for an hour this afternoon; every hint of a motor buzzing past the house would send me to the window, looking for the grey Civic gingerly turning into the drive. Finally, it arrived, and I went outside to greet my mother and hold her by the arm as she made the arduous journey towards bed.

One of the silver linings of the pandemic has been working from home. For me, that mostly meant my parents’ home, where I would finish work, close my laptop, and then see if there was anything I needed to help with. Many nights, I cook dinner, or bring her a series of mugs and cups so she can brush her teeth in bed. Other nights, I’m just there, providing emotional support and someone else to talk to.

I don’t think I’m going back to an office for as long as she lives.

I was still living in Oxford, the town I grew up in, when she was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis: a progressive scarring of the lungs that makes it harder and harder to breathe. When she started having to take supplemental oxygen, wearing the oxygen tank on her back as she taught her sixth grade physics class, I made fast plans to move to California to be closer to her. (She had moved to help look after my grandmother a decade before.) Based on the one other person in my family who’d…