"Alice, here is your cinnamon roll." My mom sat in the recliner. "Mom, what is that expression? Are you going to interrogate me and my cinnamon?" I amusingly said. She was staring at me as if I had forgotten to clean my closet or laundry.
"Oh, I am sorry. I just cannot help myself but pull this face. You know, after hearing the news. It is everywhere." I knew that she would be this worried. Every pause she made to say her feelings out loud calmly was a relief to me. I moved forward near her and tapped her shoulder, "Mom, I understand you are worried. But this is what we do, and we are trying our best to prevent crime and bring quality life here, especially here in Carson." She may understand what I said, but her uneasy feeling will be there. Therefore, I had to assure her each day.
