Phone calls home

Dad called my cell today around 7 pm. I almost panicked. He never calls, especially not from his cell. He told me he and Mom are driving to Maryland to visit relatives. He sounded happy and said I sounded better than usual. I am doing fine, aren’t I, he wanted to know. I said sure, now that I hear you Dad I am much better. He asked if I had dinner yet. He has never asked me that before.
Now talk your Mother, he says. My mother asks if I am chewing on something. Chips, I say. She says, I thought so. Suddenly there is a break of silence and I ask what happened? A truck just zoomed by us, too close, she says. I gasp and for a moment, I am terribly frightened of the possibility.
We say goodbye, happily reminding each other that I will see them soon for Thanksgiving. And then I sit on my bed and think about them. Recently, I call home seldom, way less than previous semesters. I am not busy. I just don’t want to sound so disappointing all the time. I like to wait for a time that I am actually happy, but that’s almost never. So in order to not disappoint her, I don’t call and hope that she does. Sometimes she does, even if we both aren’t talkers on the phone.
What I like about her is that she often remembers to say, “Look, you always figure it out, so just don’t worry so much.”
And then, she laughs. She has this comforting laugh, small, not too loud, not too big, just enough to reassure me.

One Comment, RSS

Comments are closed.