cannot comprehend that if I call her phone, it will just ring and ringthat there is no longer anyone on the other end who will say, Katy, honey. Just a second. My hands are wet. I do not imagine ever coming to terms with the loss of her bodyher warm, welcoming body. The place I always felt at home. My mother, you see, is the great love of my life. She is the great love of my life, and I have lost her.

One Italian Summer by Rebecca Serle