Looking at my shadow in the dark TV screen in the dimly lit room, I am struck by how much I look like mother in her later years. I am wearing a baggy T-shirt, so that it can look like a dress or a big, baggy blouse. The key, though, is how fat and round and squat the shadow is. As I hold my arms out and twirl around, it is mother playing, euphoric, with her beatific smile.