Calling Mom Home

I call my mom once a year, on the day she died. Five times I have pulled up “Mom Home” in my contacts. Five times I have pressed the phone icon. Five times she has never picked up.

I haven’t given her much time. I tap the red disconnect button as soon as I hear the first ring. “Call ended” flashes across the screen, and she is gone.

I worry someday someone will answer. Someone who is not my mom. Someone whose number this is now. That someone might call back, ask who this is anyway.

I would tell them.

Elizabeth Boquet is a Louisiana writer living in Connecticut. She writes in the space between New Orleans and New Haven.

 

Photo Credit: Susan

16 Responses to “Calling Mom Home”

  1. Celith Banuelos says:

    Close to home. I’ve called more than once in these almost ten years. I feel the love and hope of hearing my father’s sweet loving voice. By the second eternal ring, the silence reminds me of the pain, the tears roll down as if they could never end, the words “It’s my father. You have to be strong” ring through my body, filling it with the past, the present…and then I hang up.

    Thank you for writing and sharing!

    • Elizabeth Boquet says:

      Thank you for writing and sharing too, Celith. You have captured the hope and the helplessness and the search for connection in your story as well. Take care.

  2. SHREYA SINGH says:

    Just wanted to say that i have enjoyed this story. I LOVE IT

  3. Heather Z says:

    Thank you, Beth, for such a tender reminder.

  4. Toni says:

    just wanted to say that I’ve enjoyed this touching piece.

  5. Janel says:

    )))pangs((( Love this, Beth.

  6. Mariann Regan says:

    This is stunning. It fuses the worlds of the real and the imaginary. This is where each of us lives.

  7. Elizabeth Hilts says:

    How does one fit all this emotional resonance in 100 words? Fantastic.

  8. Cynthia Miecznikowski says:

    Lovely. I called my dad several times after he died and had similar thoughts. As now, my emotions are sttubborn against reason.

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