In the 22 years since I left home, moved across two state lines, and started my adult life over a hundred miles from my parents, Sunday morning has meant calling Mom and Dad. I’ve gotten older and more mellow; so have my parents, who are in their 80s. The tenor of the phone calls have mellowed. It’s all so bittersweet.
This morning was a special Sunday. It was my parents’ time to respond to my news that Paul and I are considering moving to the Yucatán. I knew my Dad would be cool with it. His inner calm is astounding. But Mom can get jittery.
Which is why I was floored over how well this morning’s conversation went.