She stared at the clock; at the seconds ticking away,transfixed. She stared at anything, at anyone but the person in front of her. “Margaret? Do you understand?” Margie blinked. Margaret… No one calls me that… She slowly turned her focus back onto the speaker. “Yes. I heard. Do whatever you want.” She didn’t hear a word of what he had just said, but desperately did not want to sit for another 30 minutes in the cramped room filled with the scattered papers that made her crazy. She always was a neat freak.
Margie hadn’t seen or heard from her mother in 2 years, and the first time she was called down to the social workers office since she was placed in foster care, was to be told that her mother was dead. Itdidn’tmakesense— nothing made sense! Margie clenched her eyes shut again. It helped her think. She breathed in through her nose, then gazed at the hands folded on her lap, and spoke softly, “Can I… See her?”