Corners

 It has been half a year since my mom died. 

In many ways, it doesn't seem quite real. It is as if I expect I will just go ahead and pick up the phone and she'll be there, wondering why I haven't called for so long. 

But I know why I haven't called. The number that I memorized as a child is no longer working. Those same seven digits, the ones that earned me a little blue telephone key ring has passed into antiquity. The supreme irony of this is probably best exemplified by the fact that mom still occupies the first spot on our speed dial. Who could replace her?

As much as the reality of all of this loss continues to creep into my life in odd bits and pieces, I feel the void each time something mildly monumental occurs and I don't have anyone to call to say, "Did you see..." Of course, it's not like it takes yet another school shooting or Republicans doing something evil. Those are essentially mundane events in our current course of any given week. Back in the day, my mom was good for historical perspective. Her refrain was familiar to many of you who have spent any quality time with her or have read accounts here in this blog: "It's probably going to get worse before it gets better."

Not that she was a pessimist. My mother held out hope for all things and believed that the next best thing was just around the corner. Which is why I continue to anticipate turning around a corner. It's the waiting for the corners to show up that gets really tedious. And frustrating. 

It's been six months since my mom turned her last big corner. While I can say that it wasn't a relief for me, I know it was for her. She had been suffering in lots of different ways, and once she didn't have her own home in which she could take comfort, she was ready to move somewhere that gave her what she was missing. It would be completely unreasonable for me to wish my mother could be hear to listen to my thoughts about drag shows and pitch clocks in Major League Baseball. Which doesn't mean that I am fine with losing my conversation partner. A number of people have suggested that I should take solace in the notion that I can now "call mom" whenever I want to. I appreciate the sentiment, really I do, but as much as I could always anticipate my mother's thoughtful responses, there were surprises.

Surprises around every corner.