My Mother’s Voice

Alzheimer’s being the conniving thieving bitch that  it is, my mother wasn’t herself in the final years of her life. The  woman I visited in the Alzheimer’s special care unit was a stranger wearing my mother’s skin but not much else, like the invasion of the body snatchers had taken place, month after month beneath the surface, until one day we looked and the woman we knew was gone, replaced by some alien being. An imposter. Intruder alert. Intruder alert. She died back in 2012. Don’t worry; I won’t be getting maudlin on you.  My real mother–not that stranger in a wheel chair, head nodding on her shoulder–is who I want to think about today.  My real mother —Enid Maude Good nee Hayden, a prim, old-fashioned name, perhaps the only thing about her I didn’t love— was British-born and had a lovely London lilt to her voice her whole life even though she left England in the mid-1950’s. I suppose at thirty, her vocal patterns were already frozen in place.  Sounding like a cross between

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Interviewing Jane Wells

I've been skittish for a week knowing today was coming. I had an appointment to interview a journalist for 805Living magazine. We're doing a new page for the end of the book featuring local people of note, be they celebrities or interesting, influential folks who live in the Conejo Valley area. My interview was with Jane Wells, an Emmy award winning, Peabody prize winning, super successful broadcast journalist on MSNBC.
And, yes I was nervous. It's not as though I've tried to pass myself off as a journalist. I'm not! I like to write personal essays, short stories, the occasional article and yes, I might have to interview someone in regards to that but HEY! Jane Wells reported on the OJ Case for pete's sake. What the heck did I know about interviewing someone like her?
In reality, the piece is intended to be fun and light, so there really shouldn't have been any pressure ... except the pressure I pile on myself!
I'd requested a bio which she emailed me and I went over it and over it.
I went over and over my questions.
I went over and over my wardrobe.
Finally I was ready. Jeans with a black shirt, brown suede boots and coat. Writerly, but fairly fashionable.
The nifty little digital recorder my husband gifted me with, tucked into one of the small inner pockets of my purse. Tres cute.
And I was on my way.
And you know what, as soon as I saw her, peering quizzically at me, as if to say, Is that you, I realized that it was going to go okay. Which, I'm happy to say, it did. The results will be in the April issue of 805 Living, if you live in our neck of the woods I hope you'll try and pick up the magazine and check it out.


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