I went to see my mum today. It's been awhile. There was no one in the lobby so I signed in and went down the hallway scanning the doors for her name. Lots of elderly and infirm folks wandering the hallways in wheelchairs and walkers. Plenty of nurses in their greens pushing carts and carrying clipboards. But no mum. She wasn't in her room, just the silver framed picture of my dad and another one of she and Russell as a baby and me, told me it belonged to her. I wandered down and found a nurse. "I think she's with her son walking around" she told me. I knew that wasn't true. I saw his name signed out over an hour ago. I found her in the family room. A few round tables on rollers crowded with liters of coke and lunches they'd brought in. She was sitting apart from them all, alone in her wheelchair facing the huge floor to ceiling window that looked out upon courtyard. They were building a fountain out there; for now yellow security tape kept everyone out. I wondered what she thought of the view but when I got closer I saw that she was asleep. Her hair was pulled back neatly into a pony tail; she had a black I LOVE NEW YORK tshirt pulled on over a hospital gown; something I knew my brother hadn't given her. I felt stupid standing there with a shopping bag holding a black jogging suit and a pair of deep salmon colored pajamas. Should I wake her up? I had to. The last time I saw her, she had been asleep in the actual hospital vs this place which was a hybrid between nursing care and a hospital. I reached slowly to touch her arm, skinnier now, folds falling away from the bone, patches of dry skin, maps to who knows where etched into her arms. She brought her head up, blinked a bit. "Yes" she said,like I'd been there all along and she was just answering my latest question. She looked at me but didn't say my name. Just "Yes."