Lisa Geichman Prosek

Four years ago today I felt my mother’s touch for the last time. I walked into the hospital room where she was undergoing treatment for a ruptured brain aneurysm to see an arc of doctors stationed around the foot of Mom’s bed trying to determine what to do about her inability to breathe. Even with […]

My grandchildren knew me before they even realized it. When I held one-week-old Carter, I spoke to him quietly and caressed his soft little shoulder as it peeked out from the baby blue blanket. This new little boy, aware of almost nothing but his need for creature comforts, got a puzzled look on his face […]

On June 29, 2008, at 3:29 p.m., while I strolled through Barnes & Noble, a Red Hot Chili Peppers CD caught my eye. I picked it up and examined it as “Phyllis Geichman” popped up on my phone’s screen. I sighed. Mom wanted to talk. I was busy trying to find a gift for a […]

My mother and I disagreed about everything. Religion. Politics. Women’s roles. Parenting. Fashion. Even cornbread. We spoke on the phone barely once a month and saw each other even more infrequently. Holidays, that was about it. Somehow, we stiffened our spines and got through them. Still, on July 3, 2008, when Dad told me Mom […]