On Tuesdays, Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Everyone is welcome to share writing and comment on others in this special community.
All four of my daughters share the endearing habit of calling when they are walking somewhere. Or driving. Or experiencing a few moments of nothingness. I will never not be grateful for the random call and the voice on the other end telling me "just checking in and saying hi." And also, I'm not sure that I will ever not worry until I hear that line and know that all is okay. It really is a check-in.
Tonight I had to laugh when Cecily, the youngest, checked in on her way home from classes. She has a fifty-minute commute a couple times a week, so someone is sure to hear from her. I was a little surprised to get her call, though, because I'd had a lengthy chat with her earlier in the day on her way to school.
"You okay?" I asked before I said much else.
"Oh yes, yes," she assured me. "I just tried a lot of other people first, and no one else could talk or would pick up."
"Cecily," I said. "Did you really just say that? Way to make a mom feel loved and special."
"No, no," she said, realizing the error of her ways. "I didn't mean it that way."
We laughed. She went on to tell me about her classes and the books her professor was having her read for several miles. I think I got her through a few towns, and who knows... maybe someone else higher on the call ladder was ready to talk to her by then.
But how lucky am I to have daughters who check in and even feel comfortable enough to admit my standing on the call ladder.
I'll take it.
