I am so proud of my friend, Oliver. He’s the mayor-elect of Miami Gardens, Florida. It wasn’t a matter of luck; it’s been a dream of his for years. His dad, his name sake, passed away two years ago. “He really would’ve gotten a kick out of this,” he said.
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I miss my parents. Sometimes the longing appears as a whisper, barely heard above the din of every day. Other times, it’s a bit more demanding. Louder. I hear daddy’s voice. Picture his shoulders shrugging as his body convulses with giggles. There was always a hint of sarcasm. Teasing.
Mama comes bearing warnings and stories in equal measure. Reminds me to tie up loose ends. Flashes me scenes of days past.
I miss them, especially her, most, when there is good news.
Starting a new job, completing a degree, earning an accolade, I want to call Mama. Her happiness would surely top mine. But then I remember, I administered her estate. The phone was long ago disconnected. She’s not there to laugh, to exclaim, “Really!?” There are no follow-up questions, getting all the details to share with all her friends.
“They’re with you in spirit.”
Yeah.
I lost my mom last year. I can totally relate. I find myself wanting to pick up the phone with good news only to remember she isn’t on the other end. I have twinges of sadness, moments of “I wish I could just have one more conversation”… I am a playwrite…the irony of it all is that my most successful run on stage was born out of the biggest pain…the hole in my heart left by my mother’s passing.
I’m sorry to hear about your mom; elated to hear of your success. Wishing you peace, success and healing!