But every time I pass by the phone, I stare at it. It's silent, it hardly rings anymore. The endless calls from Mama or the nursing home have stopped. I often find myself leaving the house for our nightly visits with Mama at the nursing home and realize... she's not there.
I miss telling her my problems and see how she was still able to play Mama and make me smile. She'd listen, make a silly face or sing a song to comfort me. Mama made me realize that my problems weren't that bad, after all I wasn't living in a nursing home with Alzheimer's.
When people say to me I must be relieved that she's gone and "the burden" has lifted, I look at them as though they're crazy. I always thought that's how I'd feel when the time came, but I don't, instead I miss Mama. I'm sure they mean well, but obviously they never had a Mama like mine.
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