So Late in the Day: Stories of Men and Women

by Claire Keegan

At one point, something from years ago came back to him: his mother standing at the gas cooker, making buttermilk pancakes, turning them on the pan. His father was at the head of the table, with himself and his brother seated on either side. Both were in their twenties at that time, in college, and had gone home for the weekend, with their laundry. His mother had served everyone, brought their plates to the table, and they had begun to eat. When she went to sit down, with her own plate, his brother had reached out and quickly pulled the chair from under her – and she had fallen backward, onto the floor. She must have been near sixty years of age at that time, as she had married late, but his father had laughed – all three of them had laughed, heartily, and had kept on laughing while she picked the pancakes and the pieces of the broken plate up, off the floor.

this made me unbelievably sad