“A daughter without her mother is a woman broken. It is a loss that turns to arthritis and settles deep into her bones.”
~ Kristin Hannah, Summer Island
We talked on the phone every day. I’d call her, or she’d call me, and we would chat about nothing in particular.
Then one morning I called and she didn’t answer. I tried again later, and again even later, but there was still no answer. There never was ever again.
Later, after the funeral when I was deeply grieving and overwhelmed with the business that death demands I’d pick up the phone, as I had so many times before, and dial her number.
My mind knew she wasn’t there; but my heart still wondered what if?. I’d lift the receiver to my ear, allow my fingers to dial the familiar number, imagine the yellow telephone on the kitchen counter ringing, and wait in anticipation as I willed her hand to pick up the receiver.
Its been thirty-one years since my mom died suddenly; today marks what would have been her 87th birthday.
I sure miss you, Mom.
Related posts:
Linda, you lost your mother far too young and so suddenly. I’m sorry. My mom was so old — 101 — and still it seemed sudden when they called to say she hadn’t come down to breakfast and was gone. We will always miss our mothers.
I think you’re right, Martha. We will always feel the void losing our mothers creates regardless of when it happens. I can’t imagine what my mom would have been like as an older woman; it seems so strange to be older than she ever was.
My sympathy, Linda. We never stop missing our mothers. No matter how long they’ve been gone. You are a tribute to her.
Thank you so much for your kind words, Carol.
You summed it all up with the phone calls. I’m sorry for your loss. I lost my mom at a much older age three years ago. She was 78 and I was 56. The phone calls were, and continue to be, hard to live without.
Christine, so nice to see you here. It’s never easy to lose our mothers, is it? They were the ones who loved us first, and in some ways for many of us, best. There’s nothing like the unconditional love of a parent and losing that, at any age, leaves a void.