
When
I first moved out of my parent's house and hit the road in the early
1970s, I called them every Saturday morning from wherever I was. Back
then I had to find a phone booth and gather a whole lot of coins to make
that happen, or I would call them collect. There was no way a Saturday
passed without a conversation. My dad always answered the telephone on
those Saturday calls. Then, I would talk to my mother. It became a
ritual, and I made those Saturday morning calls for more than 20 years.
Then, when my father was diagnosed with primary liver cancer, I started
calling them everyday. After he passed away in 1992, I continued to call
my mother daily. That lasted until she sold her home in 2012 and moved
to her first assisted living facility. Then, I started calling her twice a day,
once at 9:00 am and once at 4:00 pm. It was our ritual that we adhered for the past five years, until the vascular dementia and Alzheimer's. As I type this I have
not spoken to my mother in eight days. I have left messages for her
everyday on her answering machine, which I know she won't listen to.
When she tries to get her messages, she almost always inadvertently
turns the machine off.
It's the longest I have ever gone in my life without talking to her.
Eight days.
My
sister visits with my mom regularly and reports to us how she is doing,
but it's just not the same. I would like to hear her voice, even if it
makes no sense when we talk. In fact if I remember correctly one of the
last times we talked she wanted to talk to the "other Robin." Oh right,
the other Robin, the one without gray hair who used to call on Saturdays
as she traveled across the country and Canada. Yeah, as my mother also
says, "the fake Robin."
My
mom went to a memorial for her sister-in-law last weekend. She
got to see her brother and niece and nephew. It was lovely for her to
reconnect with them. Yeah, she didn't make perfect sense when she
talked, but the love was there.
So,
while I wait to hear her voice, I've been out walking, photographing
clouds, and trying to forget the world, and embrace our beautiful planet
instead.