Even though I kind of knew, I never thought.
Always before I've been blindsided by the old Mom.
The mom that would have watched every minute of Whitney's funeral.
The mom that would have been so proud of her granddaughter's trophy from State Cup.
The mom that would have found the perfect dress shirt for her grandson's winter formal at Macy's*
The mom that would be lecturing Rihanna to stay away from that man.
The mom that would help me with the brunch.
This time, it was the end Mom.
The limp form under a quilt.
The flaking skin around the open mouth.
The family in a rage, in fear, in grief, in frustration with this maddening woman.
The pale, bony hands, curled up and clutching.
So much worse.
George Clooney was magnificent. The writing was brilliant.
But I hated this movie.
* On special with an extra 10% off.
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