When a Text Isn’t Enough: Call Your Mom

pregnant silhouette with birdsGet Pregnant Fast

As I stepped into the salon for a haircut, a petite woman with a warm smile introduced herself. “I’m Clara,” she said, taking over from my previous stylist, who had moved away.

I immediately felt a connection with Clara. She had a genuine presence about her. When she asked about my life, I shared my passion for writing and mentioned my parenting blog. Her eyes brightened with curiosity.

“Is it about mothers?” she inquired.
“Indeed, that’s what people often call it.”
“I want to share about my mother.”

And so she did. Clara described a woman whose laughter could make strangers smile in a grocery store, someone who curled her fingers under her chin while sleeping, and moved gracefully like a dancer. She spoke of her mother as a keeper of secrets and a fragrant reminder of home-cooked meals. “She never judged. She was lovely and had a profound faith,” Clara said. “My mother is my best friend.”

When I asked if she would reunite with her mom for the upcoming holiday, her smile faded. “My mother passed away 17 years ago. It feels like just yesterday.”

I noticed a deep sadness in her eyes. Clara shook her head as if trying to dispel the weight of her memories, then resumed cutting my hair in silence. After a moment, she sighed, “I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving anymore. It just reminds me that my childhood is gone. It’s gone, just like my mother.”

In that moment, I felt a strong connection to her words. I had just returned from a weekend with my best friend, who shares my laughter, my love for Southern cuisine, and our cherished moments together. When we’re together, I feel like a child again. Our bond encompasses the entirety of my life—she was there for every milestone, every heartache, and every joy, including the arrival of my son. My mother is not just my best friend; she embodies my entire childhood.

Edna St. Vincent Millay once said, “Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.” Perhaps there’s truth to that. This kingdom resides within our parents, and when they’re gone, childhood transforms into a collection of memories; tales shared with our own children during quiet moments, books on a shelf, cherished but never relived.

In that salon chair, I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out to my mom, but instead, I sat in the heavy silence that marked the end of our appointment. Clara’s hands moved expertly through my hair, but I struggled to find the right words to express my gratitude. I simply ran my fingers through my freshly styled hair and smiled.

“This haircut is amazing. I love it,” I said. Clara beamed with pride as she handed me the mirror to admire her work. After thanking her, she guided me to the checkout, where I paid without hesitation, grateful for the experience.

I wanted to hug her, but she didn’t seem to welcome that. I wanted to express my heartfelt thanks, yet those words felt inadequate, like the generous tip I left on the counter. I exited the salon, waving goodbye, my heart brimming with appreciation. By the time I stepped outside, Clara was already welcoming her next client.

It was clear she had a promising future ahead in her craft.

Once in my car, I fastened my seatbelt and took a selfie of my new hairstyle. As I prepared to send it in a text to my mom, I found myself hesitating. Instead, I activated Siri and spoke softly, “Call Mom.”

It rang twice before I heard her familiar voice.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom?” My voice wavered, betraying my emotions.
“I just wanted to say I love you, Mom.”

This moment reminded me of the importance of connection and love, especially with those who hold our memories dear. For more insights on fostering such relationships and exploring parenthood, check out this post on Cervical Insemination. Additionally, if you’re looking for quality products for at-home insemination, visit Make a Mom for reliable kits. For further information on pregnancy and home insemination, UCSF’s Center is an excellent resource.

In summary, reaching out to our parents is vital; sometimes, a simple call can mean more than any text message ever could.


Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

intracervicalinsemination.org