I thought a promise made in 1939 had been forgotten forever. Then, at 95, I received a message that brought it back. But the real mystery wasn’t the promise. It was why it had resurfaced now.
My name is Zofia, although everyone in America calls me Zoe.
I’m 95 years old, and apparently, that means my daughter Margaret believes I can no longer make decisions without supervision.
“Mom, you cannot have chocolate cake for breakfast.”
“Margaret, I’m 95. What exactly am I saving my arteries for?”
Everyone in America calls me Zoe.
“That’s not funny.”
“Neither is oatmeal.”
After my husband Michael died five years ago, Margaret insisted I move in.
“You need someone looking after you, Mom.”
“I need someone to stop looking after me. I still cook, walk, and play cards with three terrible cheaters.”
I can no longer make decisions without supervision.
***
Last Tuesday, she canceled my card game because I looked tired.
