Both tonight and last night I spoke briefly with my mother.
I was once my mother’s only source of venting. She relied on me much more than she should have when I was a kid, because we were a lot alike, because I was an old soul, because I listened to her when no one else did.
I’ve awakened, as most of us do, to find my parents aren’t infallible. They’re human, and are people, before parents. They make mistakes, much like I do, and though yes, I may disappoint them, that’s as much due to their expectations as it is my failures.
I don’t feel the need to answer every call, to promptly return every voice mail message. I know they’ll question me, and worry, and that’s OK. It’s not my job to soothe their fears beyond what I can offer.