ET Phone Home

Since my mother died, my father has, by default, taken over some of her roles.

It’s more than just the practical things such as grocery shopping, bill paying, and laundry (actually he’s better at laundry than I am, but, that’s beside the point, and, actually, not very hard to do), it’s more of the motherly and grandmotherly roles, and, it’s not something he’s had to do in a while.

He’s such things as the official sender of Valentines and the hider of Easter eggs. He’s glad to do it, and, has the proper sentiment, but, you know he’d also be fine with paying someone to do it for him, but, he’d never say that. I imagine he’ll be learning more roles in the months to come as we forge our new routine.

I have, by my own habit, and, conditioning, given him yet another role: that of travel information receiver.
Whenever I leave town, I’m used to calling home, and, calling my parents to let everyone know I’ve arrived safely, and, what my agenda is.

I do this partly because it’s just what yo do, and, partly because my mother also had some long standing anxiety issues, and, it was just better to let her know what was going on at all times. That’s fine, but, it’s also had the effect of making me expect that information from other people, when they travel, and, well, not everyone *cough*my husband*cough* sees the need to provide a blow by blow of their travels.

I’m out of town now, and, this is one of the first times since my mother died. Upon my arrival, I did the usual round of phone calls, and, while I’m sure he appreciated the information about my safety, he was also very plainly thinking, “OK, got it. Is there some other reason you called, or, can I hang up now?”

I can’t decide if it makes me miss my mother, or, if it’s actually a bit freeing.