At first it was all a joke, passing comments no one paid any heed to. ‘Oh, I can’t remember what I came in here for.’ Or, ‘Do I want a cup of tea or did I just have one?’ Then she would laugh and let it go. Until one day the local store rang to say my mother was in the manager’s office because she had forgotten how to get home.

I remember that moment like it is happening now. The fear that gripped me, tossing me into a place I never want to go back to. My father coming through the kitchen door, whistling, a rope and a hammer in his hand, then seeing my face and dropping the tools, rushing to my side.

‘What’s wrong, Becca?’

We are still getting the answer to that question. It comes in dribs and drabs from week to week, month to month, slowly torturing us, feeding us death through a drip.

‘Here she is,’ Joanna says, her voice traveling out through the open window.

Here she is. Not ‘Hi, Becca’ or ‘How are you, Becca?’ Here she is, implying everyone was discussing why I’m late. Oblivious to my paranoia, my father walks in from the back yard. His face is pale and he is ageing at a rapid pace. There are swollen bags beneath his sad eyes and his hair is now completely grey.

‘How’s my favorite daughter?’ he says, giving me a hug before trudging back out to the yard. Through the window I can see him watching Danny, who is fixing something near the shed at the bottom of the yard. The pride never leaves my Dad’s stare as he watches him. I know what he is thinking; my son; big strong Danny, with all his degrees and important job in the tall glass building. Not to mention his beautiful wife and eco friendly home the size of a small hotel that he’s about to garnish with a baby. I imagine all Dad’s friends down the pub are sick of hearing him talking about himself, Nicholas Wall, the mechanic, whose son is making it big in the corporate world. But it keeps Dad happy. He needs something to be happy about. Maybe I’ll make him happy some day.

Mom was different. She never cared for suits and breakfast meetings. Having us around, healthy and happy was enough for her. She told me. Mom harbored no dreams for me that I didn’t dream for myself. She loved Danny but she super loved me.

Danny lifts his head. There are times I think he’s growing into my Dad – that same jawline jutting out, same square head. He sees me watching, nods and smiles. If he knew I’d slept with my boss last night, I would not be seeing that smile.