My brother took my mother to the countryside for August – “let her have a break from the apartment building.” On Thursday, my mother called from a neighbor’s phone: she had run out of blood pressure medication, and “Wojtek couldn’t be bothered because he was angry.” I dropped the medication off on Friday. My mother was waiting at the gate with a bag.

For the first week, she called every day. She said the garden was looking good, that the neighbor had brought her some peas. The second week, she started calling less often. One time, she said Wojtek was working a lot in the fields and didn’t see him much. Another time, she said she was a little tired, but it was probably the heat.

 

 

No light bulb went off for me. I should have listened more carefully.

 

On Thursday, August 21st, I received a call from an unknown number. I answered because I thought it was from work—I was finishing my quarterly tax returns and waiting for a call from the office.

 

It was Mom. But her voice was different than usual—hushed, rapid, as if someone could hear her.

 

 

“Lucynka, I’m calling from Janina, my neighbor. I’m out of blood pressure medication. Amlodipine and that other one, the white one. Wojtek was supposed to get me a prescription, but he didn’t.”