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I became a mother at 50 and lost my mother at 50 – what could be more profound? A woman on the bayou told me she doesn’t know if she would be brave enough to become a mother at 50 and I said that’s because you were a mother at 20, so you don’t have to think about those things. Today the man at brake tag office was smiling as he was applying my new tag because I was holding a dump truck in my hand that Tin had left in the backseat. He said with a sly smile, “Grandson?”

I stared at him blankly for a few minutes because I wasn’t connecting the dots. “No, son, as a matter of fact.”

He in turned stared back blankly.

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