Mothering

Call Your Mother

They call, and sometimes they don’t leave a message.
Or they call and say, "I’m at the hospital."
Or they come in the door and say "I have two concerts tonight,"
or call down the stairs, "I have 9 tank tops and no shirts to wear them with,"
or "Where are my black pants?"

It’s been one of those days.

One boy has a fracture.
The other boy just needs a break.
And the girl needs time to grow up.
Or possibly shirts.

The mother needs to see the ones who are far away,
to touch them and show the love she can only speak through the air.

The mother needs to remember that being 12 is hard work,
to stand at the back of the auditorium where she can see the percussionists.

Because it’s all about the percussion,
the rhythms of their familiar voices,
the way they rise and sink,
the way they call.

19 thoughts on “Call Your Mother”

  1. i hate those no-message calls; they make me worry. hope the one with a broken bone is ok. hope the one who needs a break [of a different kind, i assume] is ok. hope that the one with shirt trouble discovers solutions [and, editorializing here, becomes her own laundry fairy].

  2. Sometimes I’m almost glad not to hear from HG…tiny glimpses of her uni life can be more alarming than reassuring while real contact immediately puts us back on track. So I hugely sympathise..Hope concert was OK, E’s bones knit fast and things look better both at home and away in the light of a new day.

  3. Crazy, isn’t it? I remember thinking when mine were little that it would soon get easier, but it doesn’t. It just gets different.

  4. Calls I have received recently:
    What was my address in college? (Filling out form for criminal background check required by Our Fair Denomination)
    What is the temperature (in city where daughter is, not where I am) today? (This daughter doesn’t have internet access at home)
    How do you pronounce pluperfect? It’s my new favorite word!
    (Evidently we need to get her a dictionary)

  5. Look at the bright side. You got #1 Son knitting although I suppose bones would not have been your first choice. My own experience in a pinky cast was not fun and my sympathies go out to the lad.

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