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When I would visit her, my mother would chat on endlessly, especially after my father died. She would just talk at me in a steady stream, about many things, just what was on her mind, the family, the house, our relatives, the neighbours (with whom she was close), the garden, everyday life. I would just listen. I am not a talkative person, well, not to my mother. Once I complained to a friend about my mother's chatter, and my friend said, "Did it ever occur to you that your mother's lonely."