I sat on the old, familiar leather couch in the living room of the nursing home. The Sunday usuals had arrived. I saw her, leaning heavily on her cane, before a nurse helped her drop onto the couch beside me.
“Hi Mom.” No response.  I tried again.  “Barbara?”  
“Yes?” 
“It’s me, your daughter, Jennifer.”
A laugh burst out of her mouth. “Daughter? I’m 18 years old, I don't have a daughter.” Her laughing continued, tears rolling down her face. 
Today was going to be the same as always.  No sign of the person I loved.  If only she could recognize me just one more time.  I pulled the pictures from my purse and pointed.
“Look, Mom. This is us at Niagara Falls when I was six.  Remember, Dad kept saying Silly Girl and then pretended he was going to drop me into the water.”  Her face wrinkled with confusion. “Don’t you remember?” I pleaded.   
“I’m... I’m... so confused!” Panic filled her eyes as they darted around the room rapidly. “Where ...where am I?” Her hands shook and her breath became rapid and shallow.
It’s over.  She didn’t remember me. I’d been erased.  I brushed a tear off of my cheek and took her hand in mine. 
“Barbara, what year is it?” I already knew the response.
“1948.” She stated.
I cleared my throat and stuffed the pictures back in my purse.  “You know what? I’m sorry. I must have the wrong person. You look just like my mother.” 
Her face relaxed and her gentle smile returned.  She still wore her favorite yellow shirt and turquoise necklace from Mexico. “That’s okay.  She must be beautiful!”
“The most beautiful person I ever knew.  She would have liked your necklace.”  She reached up and touched the turquoise beads.  I took one more look at the woman who used to be my mother and smiled.  As I turned to leave I heard her chuckle and mutter to herself: “Silly, silly girl,”