The Missing

There are a few decisions that I have to make in the very near future. Or semi-big changes coming up in my life. I guess it is good..decisions/change in some ways, signify growth of some sort. Or progress, I guess. But all of these decisions are things I would like to discuss with my mother. I want to call her and tell her, “Lady, guess what…”

She might not tell me the solution to my problem, but she would help me figure it out or help as I made my decision. As only she can. As only a mother can. I miss calling her and telling her about my day. Or her calling me and telling me about hers. Her laughing at me or with me or telling me to shut up lol I miss calling her after class to tell her what I learned or just to call…calling her at 6am, because I knew she was up, most likely having just finished talking to Jesus. I miss her calling me to say goodnight or that she was going to bed early.

I miss calling her to tell her when I was annoyed or when I needed an objective opinion. I miss her encouraging my friends lol She always had a word for somebody. I missed her at my undergrad graduation…like I’ll miss her when I get my Masters and the other momentous occasion in my life.

But more than the big things, it’s the daily little moments I miss having with her. It’s not the same and I know it never will be. That’s part of loss, I suppose. The somewhat incessant missing. Maybe in a way it helps one keep the memories…which, depending on the situation, can be a good or a bad thing. In this situation, a good thing. Definitely a good thing.

That doesn’t make it any easier, but that’s what I hold on to.

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