I woke up this morning missing my mom.
Physically she is still with us, but dementia has stolen her mind. She can no longer carry on a conversation. I miss our telephone calls.
Living all the way across the country, I didn’t get to see her very often, but I would call her every afternoon, and we would talk about the day, have a laugh and say “I love you.” I took those daily chats for granted, it was just a thing I did, routine.
Now I realize there was nothing routine about it. Those short conversations were precious. My mothers’ voice, her laugh, her sense of humor was precious.
I wish I had savored every moment of conversation. I wish I had appreciated every laugh; every “I love you.” I wish I had committed every word to memory.
The lesson, I guess, is to take each moment we have with the people we love and appreciate the gift.
Call your mother, father, grandparents or anyone you love and tell them how much you appreciate their voice, their love, the connection.
Life changes and there comes a day when looking back may be all we have. Today, for me, that just doesn’t feel like enough.