The last time I drove away from my 89-year-old mother’s nice little apartment in West Lake Hills, I thought about all of her needs now and about the dreams I once had. I wanted to change the world. Lately it seems I’m just changing my plans to accommodate my mother’s medical needs.
Mom has no desire to ruin my life. How did we arrive at this place, where she needs me more than she wants to, and I feel like her full-time attendant? Why, like so many others, do I feel such a wide gulf between the dreams I held dear at 20 and my life at 60? Maybe the answer is found, as it often is, by looking back.
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Butts teaches English at Austin Community College.