Penguin

Today, as I sat soaking in a bubblebath, alone with my thoughts, I started to think about my Mom. For the first time, I began to worry, "what if I forget her?" I never want to forget her -- her laugh, her voice, her encouragement, her frustration, her love. The most difficult thing to go through is not being able to talk to her. This past year, I was lucky enough to see my Mom every day. Even before then, though, I talked to her all the time. I called her when I left work, got to work, lunch breaks, when I left work, when I got home from work, while I was cooking dinner (for that secret ingredient that made a so-so meal into a homemade meal), and after dinner. We would talk from anywhere between five minutes to over an hour. It depended on the time of day, and the news we had to share. I was a rare child and shared everything with my Mom. Yes, everything. I may have fibbed to friends, roommates, boyfriends, and said, "No, I would never tell my Mom that," but I did. (Sorry!) My Mom encouraged an open relationship, and it was very easy because she's my best friend. I find myself going to call her at the usual times. Instead, I call someone else -- family, friend, stephen or tear-up. My day seems so quiet. Don't get me wrong, work is extremely busy, and there are people constantly talking to me, but I feel lonely. I have two of my favorite cards hanging up at work that my Mom sent me at various times. They have been there since I started working at my job. There is one with a picture of a penguin with its wings up in the air. The inside says, "Few things are worse than being in a hug position with no one to hug. Miss you!" The words mean so much more. I miss you, too.