Just a phone call

It was a phone call in May that told me my mother had a tumor. It was a phone call that summoned us to the doctor's office to find out it was cancer, and it was a phone call that told me my father died. It seems I might stop answering the phone, doesn't it? But then there are those other calls, my sisters' calling to check on me, my Knoxville and Chattanooga friends texting and calling to make sure I am pulling through it all. Tonight, I got a wonderful phone call from a long-standing friend, Christine (notice I didn't say old friend to avoid any confusion). We chatted for a couple of hours about entertainment news, life, husbands, stuff and I laughed. It felt good to laugh but I'm different than I used to be. I don't know if this is permanent now or not but under the laugh was a layer of sadness. We touched on it a bit but not enough to make me cry.

Today was a cry day. I got excited because of our decision to join the YMCA. The kids loved it and danced around in the lobby of the place singing the song of that title. I reached for my cell phone to tell Mom about it only to remember again that she wouldn't answer. The bad thing about the light at the end of the tunnel is the more I see of it, the more likely I am to be taken off guard by the realization that she is gone. Jeff has been working on an All-Meds crisis since early this morning. It would be nice if he could be available but it is also nice to have income so I can't really complain. Not to mention, I am heading to bed and he is still working. We're still eating our leftovers from the meals people have so lovingly given. Mom's bread did not turn out though. But I made myself sick sampling it to see if I could fix the problem. I can't call Mom for a fix anymore.