After that visit,
Mom and I stop
by the
hospital
to take a
FEV1.
She doesn't
talk to me
the whole way
but she
let me know
before we left;
it's not because
she's mad.
She's just
processing
and revamping
"How to Have
Perfect Health
When You Have
Emphysema."

My mom doesn't
really get
mad.
She doesn't yell
when Jason spills
even when
she's just
mopped.
She doesn't flip
people the bird
when they
cut her off.
She doesn't glare
when someone takes
the apples
she
was going
to grab.
She just
processes,
reevaluates,
and keeps
walking.
I inherited
this
solemn and mellow
temperament,
but I have
a little bit of
Dad in me;
colorful
kind of
resentful
and pretty
adventurous.