The Passing of the Baton

It’s come to this: my mother has given me her walking cane. Not because she’s done with it – no, she upgraded to something with wheels and a basket. Very European. And there was no cane handover ceremony, like a changing of the guard or some such. Just left it in my spot where I usually sit when we have lunch together, like it was an article from the paper she wanted me to see.

I told her I didn’t need the cane yet, and that I’m pretty sure it was more of a suggestion from the doctor at this stage. I’m still hoping to put it off. Mom nodded like someone who’s lived long enough to know better than to argue with the proud.

But the truth is, when your mother offers you something that once steadied her, it’s more than a stick. It’s a quiet, practical blessing. And whether I use it or lean it gently in a corner for now, I’ll remember this: we are all walking each other home, one hand-off at a time.

The saga continues at https://breakinghip.com