To All of the Parents Who Don’t Call Their Mama

I know, I know. She wasn’t the perfect mother. She yelled too much. Or she gave you too much freedom. She was a nagger. She embarrassed you. She made bad decisions.

Or maybe as she got older she changed. Maybe you’re just so busy with the kids and the running around here and there that you don’t take the time. Maybe you assume that she’s busy, too, and it doesn’t really matter that much.

But, I just want you to take a look at the children that you have living in your house right now. Think about how miraculous it is to be witness to their lives blooming right under your protective gaze. Think about how many nights you’ve slipped into quiet rooms and watched their chests rise and fall, listened to the familiar sound of their open-mouthed breathing, giggled at the strange positions they manage to get into when they’re completely enveloped in the world of rest and dreams. Think about how often you have smiled at the sight of their bedhead when the morning sun is just peeking through the windows. Think about how many times in a day they amaze you with their insight, their weird kid wisdom, their gracious ways, and their love.

Now imagine that those same incredible kids grow and grow, and you are there for every step, every broken heart, every bad attitude, every success. And, one day, they leave.

And you find that there is a strange freedom and an odd emptiness. But, you create a new normal. You go on with life. And you learn how to function in a new world where you don’t know how the kids’ day went. You aren’t sure how they feel today or what they are dreaming about or how they slept last night. You remember how things used to be, when you were the first thing on your kids’ minds every day. When you were the center of their world. Now you just want to hear their voices. You just want to know that they’re doing well. You haven’t seen them in awhile. But, there is always the hope of a phone call.

Call your mama.