The Sneaky Side of Grief

This chair.
 
It's older than I am.
 
My dad bought it for my mom when she was pregnant with me.
 
I don't even remember how it came to be mine? It's weird how sometimes I remember EVERYTHING about an experience, a thing and sometimes I have no idea ....
 
Why am I sharing this chair with you today? Because it's a weekend. And the last several weekends I have wanted to sit myself in this chair and call my mom.
 
I used to call her once a week - usually on a weekend. She was so funny in her inconsistencies. Sometimes she would talk and talk and talk. (I would put her on speaker and just listen) And sometimes she would say a few words, too busy or distracted to chat and the conversation would be over in just a few minutes.
 
I was grateful when she recognized my voice and had delight in hers.
Maybe I miss her more because it's January and I usually flew to Florida around now? (she lived there; I do not!)
 
I don't know. What I do...
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