Ms. Carol. I was 55 when my mother fell and broke her hip. Suffice to say, I've been in your shoes. One afternoon, in hospital Mama woke up. saw me writing and asked me to read it to her. Uh oh. Ummm. I'd been keeping a daily journal since I was 8 years old and no one - not even my mother - had ever read even one word of my journal.

I told her I'd been writing about her, and asked if she was sure she wanted to hear it? Yes, she did. And so I read what I'd written out loud, to my mother.

Of all things, reading my journal out loud to my mother helped her center herself, as though seeing things through my eyes, helped her see herself in a way she could not bear to see from the inside. Over the next few months, I read her journal pages many, many times.

I am always brutally honest with my journal and f-u-c-k is still my favorite word but it always soothed, comforted and centered my mother. I often wondered if Mama had lost so much energy that hearing my emotions was the only way she could express her own.