erin mom is on a respirator again. the last time she was on a respirator, i was in seattle taking care of her. my dad said "you need to see your mother today. she needs our support." i stood in the doorway. they told me mom was unconscious so she wouldn't fight the respirator. dad walked in but i stayed and watched as the tube in her mouth jerked her chest up and up and up, and down.

i looked hard at the white doorframe. i steadied myself. the lines are straight, they aren't moving, the corners are straight, the wall is white, the door is white, the floor is white. i was breathing fast, hearing the machine inflate and deflate her chest.
erin they took her off on new years. i was wearing a yellow shirt with a baby chick printed on it. rebirth, i thought.

i watched the minutes slide by, waiting for 4 and doctor chen to come. i held her hand and noticed the veins raised off of her knuckles, and the port wine blood blisters on her arms.
what's it to you?
who go