I miss calling my mom when I’ve read a good book.
One thing that really sucks is the fact that my mom and I didn’t get to have a good adult relationship. She got really sick about 6 months after I got married, and died about a year after that.
Our conversations had just begun to reach the friend level instead of the mother/daughter dynamic. We talked marriage and books and work and other adult stuff. We never got to talk about pregnancy or kids or even pets. We never got to bond over the thing she exemplified the most: being a mom.
I am grateful that my mom always encouraged my love of reading. I’m grateful that we got to come together over books, good and bad. She’s been gone for three years and I still want to pick up the phone after I put down an especially moving novel. Yes, that feeling sucks. No, I don’t want it to go away.