And the time that I have spent away from you melts away like snow in hot sun when I hear your first words on the phone. As I chatter incessantly and you “uh-huh,” and “yeah,” and reminisce to pacify my irrational need for this – I am somehow calmed and soothed and lulled into an “I’m okay,” which is propelled forward by the ebb and flow of conversation.
It is the time after we hang up that is the most difficult. It is the time that I am in my own house and you are somewhere in your own house that it is hard for me. It is then that I realize that the “I’m okay,” is only resting water and that at any moment it can be disturbed by any feeling that falls into it. It is then that my mind wanders to what could have been. I wonder what you will think about us when you are a grown man. I wonder what you already think of us. I wonder if you know who we are. Do we know you? I wonder if you pity us. I wonder if we pity you.
So, I allow myself a few moments of thinking about how different things could have been. I fantasize about a life so different from my own that it is difficult to recognize myself or you. Then I stop.
I go into my kids’ rooms and kiss them in their beds as they sleep. I ground myself with the life that I have.
Time heals all wounds. But then I am not sure. How much time? How deep the wounds?
Someone Named Me 