I Just Want to Call my Mom

I Just Want to Call My Mom

In a world where phone calls seem to happen less and less, and texts have become our main way of communicating, there is one person I will forever miss calling…my mom. Not because I have something earth-shattering to tell her, sometimes I simply want to hear her voice.

It always happens on a long drive when I’m alone.

“Drive safe, honey.”

“Keep your eyes on the road.”

I can still hear her voice saying those comforting "mom words".

Sometimes it happens at the end of a really difficult workday. The kind of day when everything feels heavy and you don't want advice or a solution. You just want the familiar comfort of your mom's voice. She somehow had a way of making things feel a little less overwhelming.

And then there are the good days, the really good days. The days when something wonderful happens and your first instinct is to reach for your phone because you can't wait to tell her.

Like the day her grandson got engaged, or the day I held my published book in my hands.

There have been so many moments when my first thought was, I need to call Mom! And then comes that split second when I remember…I can't. That may be one of the strangest things about grief. Your heart doesn't always remember that the person you love is gone.

Your mind still knows exactly what you would tell them. For a moment, you can almost hear what they would say back. I know my mom is still with me in so many ways. I see reminders of her. I feel her love. I talk to her and I believe she hears me. I believe that love doesn't simply disappear when someone leaves this earth, it changes. It finds new ways to surround us.

But there are still moments when knowing all of that isn't enough, because I'd give just about anything for one more phone call…just one. I'd give anything to hear that familiar voice on the other end of the line. To hear her answer the phone and say those two words that meant so much more than two words ever could:

“Hi, honey.”

So, Mom, I still talk to you. I still tell you about my days. I still tell you when something wonderful happens. I still tell you when I'm struggling. And I'll probably keep reaching for my phone in my mind for a very long time.

Because you were my mom, and some people are simply too important to ever stop wanting to call.