For 56 years, my mother was natural and consistent part of my life. After I moved to New York some 16 years ago, we spoke a few times a week on the phone. There was no such thing as a short or pro forma conversation with her. Fortunately, the availability of unlimited minute plans came into existence about the time of my move. I, as well as her many friends, sought her advice on matters mundane and profound. In this way, and in so many others, I miss her.
She appeared in a dream a few nights ago. I saw her in the distance. I wasn't expecting to see her. I was so excited to see her. I ran full speed toward her. That was the end of the dream.
Each day the reality of her absence sinks in further. And yet I still long for her presence.
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