The every day chat

24 Mar

I wish I could talk with my mom every day, just like I used to. I say this without great sadness. After 17 years I am certainly used to not talking with her. And, I definitely do not intend to get you feeling maudlin. It’s just that at the end of a day, I sometimes (okay, often) think about how nice it would be to chat with my mom. We would talk about the most mundane things—what we cooked for dinner, how miserable hail is in March, our to-do lists. We’d have days when our chat would reveal exciting news or fun occurrences like “You’ll never guess who I ran into….”  And, inevitably, we’d have strained chats, silent moments and even angry exchanges. We would check up on each other, worry about each other and keep an eye (or ear) on each other.

So, how does a mom without a mom fill this particular void, especially if she does not have her father to fill in this spot? Does it get filled?

Lucky for me (and hopefully for them too), I rely on my friends for the daily chat that is not always daily. After all, who else besides a mom really has the time and patience to talk to her daughter every day! My role as a mother often involves just listening to my children’s tales, ideas, complaints…. Our mother/child chats are often not conversations, but monologues. So, I am grateful to my dear friends for often listening more than talking. It’s funny how easily we take on substitute roles and find a way to fill each other’s voids.

I wonder who other moms without moms (who did talk every day) talk to? Do they fill that void with special people? Do women whose moms are in their lives talk to them consistently and often? What do you or did you love to talk about most with your mom?



2 Responses to “The every day chat”

  1. lori pitkowsky March 25, 2011 at 10:11 am #

    Always love your sentiment Shar and always love and look forward to our chats! xo lori

  2. Robin Kahn March 28, 2011 at 12:55 pm #

    I miss those evening chats, as well. Every day, as I made dinner for my family, I would speak to my mom and we would catch up on our respective days. After she passed, the gauntlet passed to her mother, my Nana, who survived her daughter and son-in-law’s deaths. Now, my daughter is the one I speak with during the before dinner hour as we catch up on the details of her high school life and my work day. We chat in the kitchen while I prepare dinner. I will miss these moments as she is headed to college in the fall. Who will I speak to then?

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