April 3, 2009

Emails, please.

I know I've covered this story before, but it's a story that may need to be repeated. Call your mother! She misses you. She loves talking about your plans and hopes. She's bored with dogs, children and radio geeks. Horses she's not bored of yet.

Or email your mother. Tell your mother, "You have great hair." Tell her she's so smart. Tell her she's amazing to ride bareback on Dandy and not even wobble. (well, ok, a couple of wobbles, but she stayed on whilst trotting!) Tell her, "I could NEVER do your job, how do you do it?" Tell her she uses so many parenthesis and exclamation marks that it no longer has any impact.

So there you are. Unasked for advice for the young from the old. We stared lovingly at your every smile and every move for years. We read every spelling test and raved at your intelligence. We bragged about your accomplishments too much and bored the relatives. We went to every single recital ever. Once someone made the mistake of saying, "Why can't you come over? It's just another recital/award ceremony/play/dance. You must have seen 100's by now." We declined.

Your mother may be going through withdrawal.

Good heavens! Imagine if you couldn't listen to the Beatles anymore!!

Thus ends today's epistle.

1 comment:

room-me said...

i'm not one of your kids but i sure hear you, my dear. especially the part about how attentive and adoring we were at one time to our own young'uns. is it time to read for both of us to read kahil gilbran (sp?) again? your children are not your own and all that rubbish?
i too like phone calls from my girls and to feel appreciated for who i am now as well as who i was then - back when they looked at ME adoringly and loved me so unconditionally, it seemed.