someone new who was just as wonderful to her, she
would be forever sitting and staring at her memories.
She would become a different sort of couch potato.
Her mind was jammed full of reruns and replays.
Nothing new loomed on her horizon except for what
we brought home to her, and I wasn't exactly winning
ribbons and awards of any kind.
I felt so helpless, because I didn't want to cry in
front of her or make her feel any worse than she
already felt by sympathizing with her and pointing out
her sadness. For me, it was like watching someone
sinking slowly in quicksand while I was unable even
to hold out a helping hand. All I could do was stand
nearby and see her disappear.
Brenda and Celia both did all they could to
cheer her up later. They had obviously planned some
sort of strategy to help Mama overcome her
agoraphobia. They burst back into the house full of
energy and laughter. Brenda was more talkative than
ever, describing her reunion with her old coach. "I even coached the team for him for a while." "She was great," Celia testified. "She gave one
side a play she uses at college, and they were
unstoppable. Mr. McDermott was pretty impressed. I
hope you can get yourself and April to one of the
games in Memphis. Nora," Celia told Mama. "Oh, we will, we will." Mama promised, but it
was so weak and thin that no one believed her. Later, Mama tried to find every excuse for us
going to dinner without her. She had nothing decent to
wear. She was tired. She would only be a drag on our
happy evening. Celia and Brenda invaded her room and actually picked out her clothing for her, chatting away all the while and drowning out any reluctance Mama could express. They practically carried her out
to the car, laughing off Mama's reluctance.
They kept up their merriment at dinner. Every