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The Last of the Morningside Mothers

The Last of the Morningside Mothers Determined she should have another spring we plotted early: yellow roses in January, red camellias for Valentine's. Soon after, daffodils bloomed. We banked them like altar flowers. Pink hyacinths fed her when she no longer wanted biscuits. And her stereo sang with the lilt of Irish tenors, with Meet Me in Saint Louis, and Mozart. Then a miracle: April changed places with March. Dogwood stretched its blooms to her window. Azaleas popped fuchsia and red. Armfuls we carried in, leaving the door open for balmy air that brought forth wisteria. Pillows propped just right, she could see it two fences over, long purples flashing. Some we stole for the vase on her dresser. Even with all this, nothing could save her. http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png JAMA American Medical Association

The Last of the Morningside Mothers

JAMA , Volume 288 (4) – Jul 24, 2002

The Last of the Morningside Mothers

Abstract

Determined she should have another spring we plotted early: yellow roses in January, red camellias for Valentine's. Soon after, daffodils bloomed. We banked them like altar flowers. Pink hyacinths fed her when she no longer wanted biscuits. And her stereo sang with the lilt of Irish tenors, with Meet Me in Saint Louis, and Mozart. Then a miracle: April changed places with March. Dogwood stretched its blooms to her window. Azaleas popped fuchsia and red. Armfuls we carried in, leaving the...
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Publisher
American Medical Association
Copyright
Copyright © 2002 American Medical Association. All Rights Reserved.
ISSN
0098-7484
eISSN
1538-3598
DOI
10.1001/jama.288.4.419
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

Determined she should have another spring we plotted early: yellow roses in January, red camellias for Valentine's. Soon after, daffodils bloomed. We banked them like altar flowers. Pink hyacinths fed her when she no longer wanted biscuits. And her stereo sang with the lilt of Irish tenors, with Meet Me in Saint Louis, and Mozart. Then a miracle: April changed places with March. Dogwood stretched its blooms to her window. Azaleas popped fuchsia and red. Armfuls we carried in, leaving the door open for balmy air that brought forth wisteria. Pillows propped just right, she could see it two fences over, long purples flashing. Some we stole for the vase on her dresser. Even with all this, nothing could save her.

Journal

JAMAAmerican Medical Association

Published: Jul 24, 2002

There are no references for this article.