There are days when I wake up and don't realize that I am an orphan. I think of my mom and my dad...and even now...almost two years later...I reach for the phone. I talked to them almost every day of my life. I am used to talking to them. They talked to my cat...my mom would chirp to my little birds. We would call each other at least two or three times a day. My dad was always resistant to phone plans...he just did not believe in them and would buy my mom phone cards. She would have to either say or dial about a hundred numbers and get so frustrated that she would spend her time talking to me grumbling about my dad. At other times she would misplace the phone cards and would make herself crazy searching all over the house for them. My dad would write out how to call, what numbers to use, and tape the phone card to their phone table. ( Were my parents the only ones to actually have a phone table? ) And it would still somehow disappear. My mom was a smart and funny lady...but my dad often made her life difficult by his stubbornness or as my mom would say "your father's bullheadedness". I remember sighing often as she went on and on about him. Sighing again because they fussed about such non important things, bickering over a phone card when a phone plan would fix everything. When I think about it now...my dad also hated cable television. We would always want to install it for them...surprise him with the delights of The Animal Planet and The Food Channel...but he just did not believe it was a good thing for him. He couldn't get past the holes that would have to go into his walls. This was so frustrating then because when we were all at home for visits we had about 3 channels of local programming. My dad would manipulate the antenna about a million different ways to prove to us he did not need cable. Seems funny now...and sad, too, of course.
So that is my achey breaky heart story for today. I miss them and I feel like crying. I still have their number on all of our phones and one message from my dad just before he died. I also have two bottles of water in the back of my refrigerator that my dad put in our car when we saw him the last time. I can be pretty pathetic on my achey breaky heart days...
So...of course my question to you is...what do you do on your achey breaky heart days?













