Out of focus and bemused
And I never know exactly where I am . . ."
That song could be about my mother. And, come to think of it, it could also be about me.
She and I are so much alike, sometimes I get us confused.
She had just gotten a french manicure and I was distracted by her staring intently at her swaying hands. Finally, I asked her what she was doing.
She lifted her hands for me to see.
As she waved her hands back and forth in opposite directions, it looked just like two rows of nuns singing and swaying in a chorus.
Happy hands. Happy nuns. My happy mom.
I LOVE my mom.