Thursday, May 20, 2010

The Sound of Her Voice

Have you ever started to address an e-mail to one person when similar names of other people appear in the drop-down menu?  People that you have e-mailed previously?  That happened to me today and it was quite a moment.  

When Mom's name popped up, as I was casually going about my business, I froze and couldn’t go on with what I was doing.  Instead, I took a moment to close my office door and think of her and what I miss the most on this three month anniversary of her death.

I miss her hands - they are just like mine.  I pick at the cuticle of my left thumb when I am thinking, just as she did throughout her life.  Sometimes, when I am using my hands to communicate, I stop in mid gesture, certain that I have channeled her energy as my own.

I miss her stubbornness, even though it pissed me off more than I can say and more times than I can count.  We share this characteristic.  

Perhaps most of all, I miss the sound of her voice.  Never again will I be able to call her after work or early on a Sunday evening.  Mom's voice is etched in my memory forever, but tonight, I would do anything to hear it out loud just one more time.  

Scent of the Evening: Borneo 1834

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