"you just have to be there
A few weeks ago I called Mom. It had been a busy day and I needed to breath. In moving to the organized frenzy that is California, sometimes the most peaceful thing in the world is to call home and listen to the stories of the canaries and orioles that gluttonize at the birdfeeder, the starlings that poop all over the grill -- the exciting things of life in the midwest.
Anyways -- the folks weren't home, so I was forced to ruminate in my thoughts.
I thought about how rare it was that she miss a call.
I thanked God for a Mom who has always been there on the other end of the line.
And I thought about something she said a long time ago during a very difficult time in my life, when I called basically every day, and said nary a word every time.
During one particularly difficult stretch, when I called to be particularly silent, all I could do was thank her for being on the other end of the line. For always being on the other end of the line. She said something profound. "Raising boys, you just have to be there." She went on to explain how a thousand times she has asked "how are you?" and a thousand times the answer is 'fine' -- though it is obviously not fine. but she learned it takes a while for her boys to work the stuff out of the basement. Yet, the day comes when the answer is not "fine" --but something else, something significant. And she had committed "to be there" or miss it forever.
(what she really said was, "you'll tell me when you're good and well ready, and I'll just have to wait until then." So I paraphrased a little)
I've known my mom half her life, she's known me all of mine. from the beginning she has always been there. It's her birthday today. Today I thank God for her -- God gave me an example of patience and care. I'm the one who got the gift.
Happy birthday Mom! I wish I could be there to visit and talk about nothing.
