The call came from the old age home.
The voice on the other end was urgent. “Your mother’s condition has worsened. We don’t know how much time is left. Please come visit her.”
When he arrived, he found her in bed—frail, silent, and wrapped in a blanket too thin for the season. Her breath was shallow. Her face, though aged and tired, still held that same softness that had once kissed his scraped knees and calmed his childhood fears.
He sat beside her, tears welling in his eyes. “Mom,” he whispered. “What can I do for you? Is there anything you need?”
She opened her eyes slowly, smiled faintly, and said:
“Install Fans. Get a Fridge. Feed Them Better.”
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