November 23, 2013
Eight O'Clock A.M.
I have been faithfully participating in NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) for November. That means I have been attempting to post each day in November.
Well, I almost made it. I didn’t post yesterday.
It’s tough to be able to think of something to write everyday.
To fill a blank screen, I could have blathered on and on. But, then all I would have wound up with is a bunch of gobbledygook. And even I wouldn’t want to read that.
Instead of writing I could have just posted a photo or two, but that doesn’t require any effort and I wouldn’t feel that I really participating.
So, my journey with NaBloPoMo ends here. I will go back to posting whenever I get the unstoppable urge to blow a kiss into the blogosphere.
I woke up this morning thinking of you. It’s going to be a beautiful day. Sunny and warm. I was a little worried when I didn’t hear from you last night. Always, at around about 8:30 each night, I have come to expect your call.
It’s funny, because you have had a couple of different phones and phone numbers during the past 6 months, I have you listed in my contacts more than once. So, in order to distinguish between the different numbers, I have associated your various phone numbers with different names.
The phone you most often use to call me is your Blackberry.
I have my answering machine set to “Talking Caller ID”. When the phone rings, I wait for the computerized voice to announce “Call… from… Jim…Me… Black…berry.”
I missed hearing that last night.
I know you were anxious about today. I am proud of you for taking this step. My heart is filled with hope for you because I know how much this means to you.
This morning, at 5:30, I had thoughts of jumping in the car to go with you.
Even though it goes against my maternal grain, deep down inside I know that this is something you have to do on your own. I will worry about you, I can’t help myself. But I know you’ll be okay. After all you have the two most important motivators in the world. Keep those two little guys close to your heart. They may not understand right now, but someday soon they will.
I will keep you close to my heart.
Grandma Ciaf passed away four years ago today. She held you close in her heart and I have a feeling she is watching out for you too.
Thank you for calling me this morning, Jimmy Blackberry. I love you.