After a beautiful run this morning with Becky we loaded up Gavin and headed out to soccer in Sparta. This past week I hadn’t talked with my mom nearly as much as usual and I felt like I was going through a little bit of withdrawal. I’d texted her last night to find out what time she was thinking she would be up so I wouldn’t wake her when I called.
As a kid I still remember my hearing my mom talking with my grandma every weekend, seemingly both days some weekends. In my memory it kinda feels like they were on the phone for hours, but knowing how time passes differently for kids it could have just as easily have been 30 minutes. Hearing her call Grandma Joyce left me thinking that it was exactly what you are supposed to do, call your mom every weekend if she doesn’t live nearby.
It was wonderful connecting with my mom this morning before Gavin’s game. We were able to just shoot the bull, not really talk about anything in particular, but I had a great time just connecting with my mom.
Later in the day I took the boys on a run to Menards. Both of the boys brought books and were initially reading as we got back in the car. My first instinct was to do what I always do when I leave Menards, call Dad. In a split second I remembered that calling him wasn’t going to work so well and for the briefest of moments I felt pretty sad. Almost as quickly I realized, how awesome is it that I had so many excellent conversations with my dad before he passed. There were so many times we would connect for brief conversations, sometimes even just for a couple of minutes, that left me feeling more joyful.
And that’s why I’m thankful for conversations with my parents today. I’m so fortunate to still have one parent that I can continue to have conversations with regularly. In the big picture, I’m blessed to have such wonderful parents that I look(ed) forward to talking with them, miss when I don’t talk with them, and enjoy(ed) each moment I have connecting with them. It’s another reminder of what a wonderful job they did of perfectly balancing that fine line of parent and friend.