Making sense

Anne Lamott, on writing ...

"We are a species that needs and wants to understand who we are. Sheep lice do not seem to share this longing, which is one reason why they write so little. But we do. We have so much we want to say and figure out.”

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Missing Mom

Today would have been my mom's 69th birthday. I still can't believe she's not in this world. I miss her phone calls, most of which went like this:
Me: Hi, Mom. What are you doing?
Mom: Not a damn thing.
Me: You should get out of the house today. Get some fresh air.
Mom: I don't need fresh air.
Me: (changing the subject) What's Kimmie making for dinner? (Mom went to live in the basement of her house when my sis Kim moved in with her partner and two children.)
Mom: Burger King. I'm so damn tired of hamburgers.
Me: I'm making (pick one) a) enchiladas; b) meatloaf; c) spaghetti and meatballs ...
Mom: Ooooooh, boy, does that sound good. When are you bringing me a plate?
****
Then I would promise a visit, which generally didn't happen, because Mom lived fifty miles away and I hated going to the house that wasn't her house anymore, and seeing her deteriorate physically and emotionally .... So. Hard.
‪#‎wishIcouldcookformymomnow‬ ‪#‎missingmom‬ ‪#‎theimportanceofmendingfences‬ ‪#‎callyourmother‬


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