A Phone Call, Too Far Away (While My Mom Gave Birth)

It was early evening. I was very little, shorter than the small desk tucked in the corner of the kitchen that was home the rotary phone. I remember looking up at it as my grandmother spoke on the phone.

I wanted my mother. More like...needed her.

My grandmother had told me she couldn't be there right now. I recall thinking she was sick, or busy, and I understood that in an itellectual way...but I wanted her, in a very primal way. I felt cut off, and I wanted my mother. She was warmth, and safety, and snuggles, and home. As much as I liked my grandmother, it just wasn't the same.

I remember speaking to her on the phone. I think. Or maybe my grandmother spoke to my father. Either way, I knew that the phone was a connection to my mother, and it made me want her more.

I had noticed my mother getting larger, but it made her comfortable. A lot like curling up and laying on a giant, squishy stuffed toy. I liked it.

So now she was busy, unavailable, and I would have to wait. And I didn't like it at all.