At sixty she got stuck with a mind that refused to function like it should. A mind that forgot more then it retained. Yet everyday she thinks of France. She fantasizes about fresh baked baguettes smeared with soft creamy brie, and rude waiters talking down to her as if being American was a disease.
“We should go.”
“Mom, you’ve been to France. We went last year.”
Then she remembers.
Her daughter is 20 and getting married.
Thirty with kids.
Forty and no longer visits.
That her life is almost done.
She forgets all this again and tomorrow longs for France anew.