Last night, just as I was getting ready for bed, you called. I was tired and I had to get up really early this morning. I didn’t mention any of that, because you called.

Since you have grown and flown, these moments of insight into your life are rarified. Yes, I could call you and sometimes I do. But those moments when you call are special. The call lets me know that you are thinking of me and that you have things you want to share.

When you were first on your own, you only called when something was wrong. I developed a reflexive response of “what is wrong?” I didn’t really like to talk on the phone and I hated that I couldn’t see you in person.

As the years fly by, I crave your voice. If you need advice, call me. If you need a cheerleader, call me. Need a listening ear, unconditional love, a critic to speak truth to you…. Call me, call me, call me.

Because when you call me, no matter what I am doing, I feel the whispers of your chubby, baby fingers reaching out for me to pick you up and then your hand on my face as you turned my chin to get my attention. I see fingers under the bathroom door as you yelled “mom, mom, mom” when you wanted an answer that couldn’t wait for my attention.

When you tell me about the ups and downs of your job, I am remembering you running off the school bus clutching papers, eager to tell me about your triumphs and tragedies. When you tell me about your latest hobby, I am remembering the countless hours we spent at practices and performances. You tell me about the book you are reading and I remember trips to the library and endless bedtime stories.

You talk about the weather, and I know that you are already tired of the heat because you burn so easily. You talk about your health and I am listening for the way your voice modulates when you are anxious. I wish I could see your face to look for the circles I know you get when you have a migraine. But I know all the timbres of your voice, and just listening will have to do.

Last night you called and I was reminded that though you live far away, I am still your mother. You called and I immediately felt the bond that can’t be broken. My heart was rejoined to my body for the brief period of a phone call. I didn’t mention any of these feelings; it would have been weird. You called last night and I know that you are safe and happy. That is enough. I didn’t have to say anything other than, “I love you, and I’m glad you called.” You called last night and I am content.