Who You Gonna Call?

Since my mom's gotten sick, I've had lots of time to reflect on it, on her, on our relationship.

(Quick health update: She's seen some success in shrinking the tumor, though not enough. In the meantime, she recently had a series of strokes. They're not sure why but it could be due to the cancer. The drug used for most people to temper these strokes is heavily processed through the liver, so that's not an option. But she is OK for the most part and still living on her own at home.)

The thing I keep coming back to -- the thing that will be most devastating -- are the phone calls.

I call her when I'm happy, I call her when I'm sad, I call her when I'm bored and stuck on the freeway. I mean, I literally call her every night on my way home from work. And then there are the weekend Facetimes with the kids. (and, yes, please note that I'm calling her. It's the nature of our relationship.)

I thought of it today after I took the Kindergarten tour at my daughter's future elementary school.  I saw the cafeteria, the playground, the classrooms. I walked out of the school gates and started crying. How is it possible that my little girl is now old enough to enter real school?

I thought of what brings me comfort and headed straight for Starbucks for a latte.  When I got back to the car, I was listening to lame music on the radio and thought, "I want my mom."

My mom is absolutely the first person I call when I need a hug. Usually even before my husband.

I called her when I didn't think my husband wanted to have kids (turns out he was just a little freaked out by the whole idea).  She comforted me in a way only a mom can.

A year later, she was the first person (after my husband) to find out I was pregnant.

I called her when my daughter went to daycare for the first time. "How long do you have to leave her there?" "20 more minutes." "OK, maybe go get a coffee and then it will be time to get her." 

She was right.

So it seemed only logical that I would call her today.  She was with my brother and sister in law so I didn't want to keep her long. But one of the first things she did say was, "Maybe you should get a latte to feel better." "I did. That was comfort number 1.  You're number 2." "Well, it's good to know you have priorities," she laughed.  "I don't want to keep you when you have people over." "OK, but you can call me later if you need to." "I will."

And I will -- I'll call her again tonight on my drive home.