It's almost exactly the distance of the time spent driving when I would pick up my phone to call my mom.
It was on my way home.
It was a time to talk about the day and ask about hers.
I have a silent ride home now.
No music fills it.
It's been seven months and five days since mom never again opened her eyes.
I miss her almost continually but some days are better than others
I always wondered what it would be like when those above you had gone.
I am, after all, now the one at the top.
It's an odd feeling.
And today my dad would've celebrated his 98th trip around the sun.
Even though they were divorced, mom would've had something to say about it.
So it's today on HIS birthday that I am missing her very much and I'm not sure I understand that at all.
It really doesn't make a lot of sense, it's Dad's birthday, not hers.
Hers will come at the end of September and maybe I'll miss him on her birthday.
I'm still sorting this out but once thing I'm sure of,
Sixteen miles and a lonely drive home.
~Anne Boswell Taylor
July 28th, 2019
