don't go

Somedays I think I should just move back home. I'm missing my mom and dad's life. Everyday that goes by is another day I'm not seeing them or laughing with them in person. And when a (un)certain time has passed and they have passed, I don't know what I'll do without them.

I've got hours and hours of phone messages recorded, over various years of life, with mom and dad using the answering machine to it's un-dreampt-of power: regaling me with stories, as if they were actually talking to me. They'll start to say, "oh, you're not there...well, give us a call! Oh, wait, I forgot to tell you..." and away we go! Sometimes it's five, ten minutes of one-sided conversation. I'm thrilled! And, I wonder sometimes, will I listen to these incessantly in the coming years? Or will they be tucked away, too difficult to hear?

My Uncle Jack used to tape a lot of things: jokes, his banjo playing, songs from records, and phone conversations. There's one conversation in particular,about a picnic, that all of us have listened to over and over and now refer to as an inside joke pretty regularly. Today, I'm so glad we can hear my Uncle Jack and my grandparents voice debate and laugh and giggle and talk and talk and talk..., as they've all gone on to another place -- but how hard is that for their sister, their daughter: my mom?

Whenever I meet someone much older than me that still has their parents, I think to myself, 'yes! there's the testament! it CAN happen... we CAN all grow old together...' but at some point, I know, we've all got to go. I've always, always hoped it was me first.

So, I recently made this card and when I showed it to RK, he said, 'ooops! i think somethings missing...' But no image seemed appropriate. So, I told him he was wrong.



What I was really thinking was, much to my chagrin, someday, he'll be right.