I know I’m supposed to be listening harder.

I know I am supposed to be concentrating more.

Look at her.

It will help if you look at her.

Concentrate.

I think this is important.

But my eyes wander. 

Just a little. Not too much. 

I wouldn’t want to appear like anything but a mother who is paying 120% attention.  

Because that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. That is who I’m supposed to be.

There are a lot of cupboards in this room.

They are grey.

Up high and down low.

Cupboards full of information I guess.

Information for me?

Ok. Look at her again.

Concentrate.

She is trying to help you.

Wait.

There are labels on these cupboards.

They are made from a label maker.

I had one of those when I was 12.

Mine was blue. I loved that thing. I put labels on nearly everything I owned.

Crisp white stick-on strips with black neat capital lettering.

Wait.

Why does it say Palliative Care?

Where am I?

Hold on.

Something is wrong.

These cupboards are mislabeled.

I’m in a Children’s Hospital.

These are mislabeled.

It’s the Children’s Hospital.

I am in the Children’s Hospital.

He is in the Children’s Hospital.

There has been a mistake. 

A mis-label. 

Oh.

Wait.

Oh.

I want to glance at it again. Maybe I misread.

But I have to concentrate on her and what she is saying.

And of course I know. 

I know I didn’t make a mistake.

Not then.

Not now.

I still see it.

So many years later.

The label-maker label. 

White Strip. Black letters.

Oh.