“Across from me at the kitchen table, my mother smiles over red wine that she drinks out of a measuring glass.

She says she doesn’t deprive herself but I’ve learned to find nuances in every movement of her fork and the crinkle in her brow as she offers me the uneaten pieces on her plate.

I realize she only eats dinner when I suggest it. I wonder what she does when I’m not there to do so.”

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