For Friday Fictioneers
Mom sits in her wheelchair, frail and shrunken. Her hands and head wobble constantly with Parkinson’s disease.
I place the tray of cooled, freshly-baked cookies on the table in front of her, alongside cups of colored icing and sprinkles.
“Want to start with red?” I ask, pushing a cup toward her. She shakily picks up a spoon.
An hour later, there’s icing everywhere. The cookies are thoroughly decorated. Mom leans back, green icing all over her hair, smiling radiantly.
“Just look at those beautiful cookies!” I exclaim, just like she must have said to me so many years ago.
Thank you to Rochelle at RochelleWisoff.com for this happy kickstart, with the photo prompt above.