I Picked Up the Phone To Call My Mom Today.
I picked up my cell phone today and for a split second, intended to call my mother. It’s something I had done a thousand times in my life, but not once in the last seven years. My mother passed away in November of 2014 and never in the years since, have I picked up the phone absentmindedly to call her. For three years, I kept a voicemail from her and would listen almost daily to hear her say, “Love you, bye.” But that was before everything was saved in the “cloud,” and the message was lost when my phone died and the data/information couldn’t be transfered to the new one.
It was a very disconcerting feeling, almost a moment of questioning my sanity. The world has been an insane place these past couple of years, and I worried momentarily that it was finally catching up with me. But a glimpse at the calendar made me realize what caused it. It’s September. The cusp of Fall. Her birthday is in a couple of weeks. And Fall encapsulates her very fast illness and death. It has crept up on me again. It’s my personal version of post-traumatic stress, I suppose. I’ve had the overwhelming desire to talk to her a million times in the last seven years, but have never picked up a phone. I’m not sure what caused me to do that today. But instead of an ugly cry, or even the trembly sniffles I often get, I thought about the conversation I would have had with her today if I could. And it was more comforting than painful. So, I am thankfully not losing my mind. Just missing her more than usual today.
