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Miss calling my mom

I “celebrated” four years of serving on the field with the IMB recently. I can’t believe 4 years have flown by…

While on the field, I have made it a habit of calling my mom, usually about every two weeks. Whenever I would call her, I usually just listened. Mom liked to talk and boy could she talk when I called her.

She caught me up on all the news in the family. What “important” issues that were going on in Wichita Falls (like when they decided to name the new sports arena after Kay Yeager: boy was she ever against that!!!).

Sometimes she would go in to a long discourse about someone I didn’t even know. Usually I would hold the phone to my ear and “listen”. When she would take a breath, I would tell her that I didn’t even know the person. Other times she would begin talking about something that happened 10, 20 or 50 years ago. I would just “listen.”

Mark Schultz has a song called “When You Come Home”. It is a story about a mom’s love for her child. Before my mom died I heard the song numerous times and cried every time I heard it. I almost can’t listen to the song now… Here is the chorus:

When you come home,
No matter how far,
Run through the door
And into my arms
It’s where you are loved,
It’s where you belong
And I will be here
When you come home

I’m looking forward to the reunion, but boy, what I would do right now to just “listen” to her voice. I miss you mom.

Comments

  1. I cried when I read this. I know you miss her! Your mother sounds like Jamebo’s mother.

  2. Thanks Brenda.

    My dad passed away 24 years ago and there are still days when I do something or say thing that reminds me of him.

    There is not a day that goes by now that I don’t think about mom.

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