Page 83 - Where the Dream Ends ebook

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table. Harry picked up the photograph and put it close to his
mother’s face.

“Do you know who this is?” he asked. She took the picture
in her hands and examined it, adjusting it to the light. She tried
to speak, but the words that came out were a jumble. He took
the picture from her and placed it back on the night table.

He had apprised the nursing home of his visit before his
arrival, so she was dressed in a pretty, flower print pant suit.
Someone had applied makeup to her face, presumably to cheer
him up. Miraculously, the silver pins that she always wore to
hold her hair in place were fastened securely. How did they
know, he wondered?

Except for some food crumbs on the floor, the room was
clean and bright and she looked comfortable. Her right arm
was bruised from an earlier accident, but otherwise she ap-
peared healthy. Months before, the attending physician at the
Home called Harry to suggest they put her on Prozac. She
wasn’t eating, the doctor said. He suggested it was possible she
was depressed and the drug might help. Harry thought about
asking the doctor if he wouldn’t be depressed living that way,
but for once he held his tongue, considering first his mother’s
old cliché. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he called his cousin,
a psychiatrist, on the west coast.

“It sounds to me as if the doctor is really concerned with
making her comfortable,” his cousin said. Harry agreed to let
them give her a low dosage of the drug. When he came to visit,
she had been taking the medication for two months. To him,
there was no noticeable change in her state of mind from the
last time he was there.

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