Suzy Says

Mom, 1942

I was yanked out of one of my weird dreams (is there any other kind? My two brain cells seem to go on a riotous rampage when I’m asleep. It’s like David Lynch’s Funhouse in there most nights) at 3:00 am. I knew the answering machine would pick up before I could find my glasses and stumble to the phone, so I didn’t try to dislodge Clyde and get up.

When the phone rang again not three minutes later, I did get up and answer it, and there was no one there, at least no one who wanted to admit they were there. My feeling is that if someone makes you answer the phone, they should talk to you. They should at least apologize for getting you out of bed at 3:00 am.

A friend of mine said it must be one of those robo calls, but what do they get out of it if they don’t even try to scam you?

I went back to bed, though not to sleep. We are a family of bad sleepers, and in my case, if I get woken up, it’s difficult verging on impossible to get back to sleep. I lay there in the dark with Clyde once again cuddled up to me, and I thought how when the phone rang in the depths of the night, I instinctively thought it was about Mom, even though I know that’s impossible and even though she’s been gone for 15 years. I guess her long and terrible decline has left permanent scars behind. Also, it happened to be the day after my mother’s birthday. Not a milestone birthday – 88 years – but a birthday nonetheless, and I always think of her more often around those days.

The next day, I turned on the radio and they were playing a song from the Moody Blues’ “Seventh Sojourn”. That was one of Mom’s favorite records and she played it a lot when I was a girl. It was amazing how listening to that song brought me right back to that time, when Megan was just a baby. I seem to remember it was playing the first time Megan laughed. I remember her lying in the playpen in the sun, looking at the flowers on the syringa bush waving in the wind outside the window, kicking her little feet and laughing joyously.

As I remembered that long-ago day, listened to the music, and thought about that early morning phone call, I wondered if it was all Mom. After all, I thought, if anyone could do it, she could.

A YEAR AGO: An update on Dodge. I’m happy to say that none of these things have changed. He is a joy.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Getting used to the new job. I am pleased to say that my office is much improved these days, at least in appearance.

TEN YEARS AGO: Back home after a trip to the City, missing little Henry Etta.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: Mom celebrated her last birthday in the hospital, her spirit unbowed despite everything. I miss you, Mom.