Calling My Mom

I don’t call my mom as often as I should. It always seems to be the thing that slips off the plate.

I hope I get points on the cosmic scoreboard for thinking about calling her, because that happens nearly every day. I often say it out loud to my wife: “I gotta call my mom tonight. No, like I mean it. I really have to this time…”

But by the end of the night, I convince myself that I’m too tired, that I don’t want to recount events from my life in the final hours of my day, that I don’t have enough time to have a really rich phonecall, so I’ll just wait one more day…

This goes on.

Then I finally call and apologize and she forgives me and doesn’t seem like she cares as much as I do.

I’ve tried to get her on Facebook, to get her to buy a cell phone so I can text once in a while and send pics of her granddaughters, but she’s against it.

“I just love hearing your voice,” she says.

I wish I didn’t have such trouble giving it to her.

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