Hablando con la Jefita

I just spent about an hour and a half talking to my mom. I always call her Saturday morning. However, I was busy this morning so I called her in the evening, but she wasn’t home. Since I know she stays up until all hours of the night, I went ahead and called her again at about 10 pm. She was home this time and caught me up on the week’s gossip. It’s so weird because it felt like I hadn’t talked to her in about a month because she had so much to say.

Last summer, during the poetry workshop in Mexico, Pamela read me a poem she wrote about her mom after I broke down when I wrote one about my dad. Hers was about how she missed the late night phone calls with her mother. It really made me think. Losing my dad was hard because of the messed up relationship was had, but losing la jefita is going to be a million times worse. I know I shouldn’t think about these things, but part of me wants to so that I can have a plan of action.

It’s hard to think that one day, I’m going to want to call and she won’t be around to complain about my brothers or to tell me the latest gossip on my crazy tía Lupe. Hasta entonces, que dios la bendiga y que haga que me dure a long, long time.

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