For A Son

Billie Bob Taylor 

"I don't know how to say this Bobby," she wiped her eyes with the tissue I had given her then very dramatically blew her nose. Her eyes were bloodshot, the tip of her nose red and her bottom lip terribly abused from chewing it so much. 

"It's okay Ma," I frowned, "You know I always have your back and whatever it is it's alright." I looked to Clyde whose face looked terribly red against his straw blonde hair. He looked just as upset as Ma and the more I thought about it I started to wonder what could possibly be going on. 

Ma was always the picture of health to me. The last time she had gone to the hospital was a few years ago when she broke her hand after trying to stand on her horse. She never really needed doctors because she knew so many remedies that she often healed herself.