My phone rang this morning before 7. Not strange at all, until a check of the caller id told me it was my Mother.
She never calls that early. As ever, when a call comes in from her number at an odd hour, I held my breath, and said a faint, "Hello," into the receiver, awaiting news on my dad.
She sounded horrible. She was so terribly congested. She was coughing and sounded miserable.
When I realized she was calling me to tell me she needed ice water, a task that could have easily been completed by one of my sisters living far closer to her than me, if she really was feeling too badly to even get up to go to the kitchen, I drove right over.
When I walked in, she looked ok. I knew she was feeling really badly, but she looked all-in-all, alright.
I got her ice water and began cooking her some breakfast.
She sat back with her feast, little more than picking at it...
She just didn't feel good.
I got busy doing a few things around the house waiting on her to finish breakfast, and when I had done all the dishes I could do, washed all the clothes I could wash and taken the trash to the street, I went in to find her still working on her eggs and grits.
Her face had started to look a little grey, but she was still working on her breakfast.
I really started to worry about my mother. I've worried over her in the past, but this morning, I was seriously worried about the mortality of my mother for the first time in my life.
I knew I was over-reacting, but I was scared.
In fact, I was more than scared...
I was terrified I was losing my mother.
In those seconds, even though she was right there with me, I began to miss my mother.
I thought about all she had sacrificed for my brother and my sisters and me...
I thought about her love for me...
That little woman loves me more than anyone in this world, and for no reason other than I am her daughter.
She thinks I'm a computer expert...
Because she came to my house one night and saw my MySpace page...
She began to tell everyone that would listen that, "Pam can build websites. On the internet!"
She has always thought I was far more beautiful, more kind, more intelligent and more talented than I have ever been.
She has always been my number one fan.
She's aging now, and there are times I want the advice of mother before I want the advice of anyone else on this earth...
And, yet, I cannot go to her.
If I am sick, I don't let her know...
For she can do nothing about it.
If I'm hurting, I can't share it with her...
Because it would hurt her more.
Sometimes, I am so lonesome for my Mama, my heart hurts.
Out of nowhere, she asked me, "Pam, do you know who I was missing so bad last night?"
"Sure don't, Mama. Who were you missing?"
"My mama. I could feel my mama around me. I wanted my mama. I missed my mama."
Hot tears came from the back of my eyes, as I replied, "I bet you were."
"I was. It was like she was right here. I could feel her. She was trying to make me better. Mama can always fix everything."
A grin of understanding stretched across my face...
There were to two of us...
For completely separate reasons...
Experiencing the exact same emotion.
Yeah, Mama, I understand.
I sometimes miss my mama, too.