"Missing Grandma" -- Meditations on my mother's mental illness

Today, my mother-in-law arrives.

My husband’s mother visits every four to five months. Her soft blouses predictably sport cheerful, butterfly designs. She enjoys drinking a cold Stella beer and walking barefoot in the backyard of our south Florida home. Her beautiful, white hair shines in the sun. She loves to read to our two-year-old boy Taber. He calls her “Nana.”

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