Okay…Before we start the festivities, know this: mom, I love you. And that’s why I can laugh at (and with) you.
I have decided that my mother does her best and most active thinking on Sunday mornings. And if I pulled my cell phone records for the last eight years or so, I could prove it. And actually, I think I can pin down the timing of her best Sunday morning thinking to a block of time between nine a.m. and noon.
How do I know this, you may ask?
Because I and my family are, more often than not, in church during that block of time. And, that is when I frequently get messages from my mom of one sort or another…Thank goodness I am pretty good about muting my ringer. Unmuting, on the other hand is a bit trickier…
Back before we introduced her to texting, voicemail messages were the mode of communication. My pocket or hip would vibrate the requisite three times (sometimes inconveniently mid-sermon), and then it would be gone, shuffling her into the ether of my voicemail. Then, post-text-introduction, I’ll get these text messages regarding one thing or another. Sometimes carrying attached photos of whatever she’s doing at the time.
Are they important? Sure. In the sense that regular communication with your mother is important. And they can be topical. Or necessary. And I can’t say I want them to stop. It’s good to know that she’s up and pondering the world and needed to share some part of it with me. But it makes me laugh every time I see a message come from her during church hours.
So it’s a running joke in my life: church time equals time for mom to call or text. It’s what she does. It’s who she is. And as inconvenient as it may be, it lets me know that I’m always there, somewhere in her head.
At least on a Sunday morning, I am. And I’ll take that.
Love you mom!
See you tomorrow.