[ CW ] `` Please tell me you 're here to do something about the dust . ''

Milton was the always the better brother, always offering to clean Mom's house instead of hiring a maid. Mom, in turn, always refused: 
 
 `` Please get up, Milton. You're a grown man now. A professional. I raised you so would n't have to do this.'' 
 
 `` Mom.'' He paused. 
 
 After a sneeze, he continued. 
 
 `` Your house is a mess. You've never kept it like this when Sam and I still lived here. Look, you ca n't even see the pictures of us.'' 
 
 `` Please, Milton, this is beneath you.'' 
 
 Milton put the frame back on the wall. 
 
 ``... you sent us to college cleaning houses like this.'' 
 
 She turned away, but a tear was apparent on her face. 
 
 A quiet sob later Milton stood up and took his mother in his arms. 
 
 `` Shh. Shh. It's ok. You did it. You do n't need to worry about us anymore.'' 
 
 -- - 
 
 That was three years ago. 
 
 Milton always used to tell me to go back to check up on Mom. 
 
 Last night, he had to remind me through a dream. 
 
 It was this morning that I packed my bags. 
 
 One hour by train, four by plane, another by bus. 
 
 Coming up the sidewalk, I realized her door still had his wreath on it. 
 
 On her doorstep lay a pile of old newspapers, drenched and dried and drenched again. 
 
 The knot was already forming in my throat as I wondered how I could have possibly left her here. 
 
 *Knock. * 
 
 *Knock. * 
 
 An elderly woman opened the door. 
 
 She looked up and adjusted her glasses in recognition. 
 
 -- - 
 
 `` Please, tell me you're here to do something about the dust.'' 
 
 `` I-I'm sorry, Mom, I'm so s-'' 
 
 `` There's so much dust.''
