On Sundays
you called.
I'd ask you how your week was; what you ate; what was bothering you.
You shared easily
Indulging me.
Then, on the phone with your father
you talked and talked
and indulged him too.
I still thought of you as my baby.
That must be one of the most difficult things, waiting for the phone that now never rings. I am sure you still think of him as your baby. Things will never now change.
ReplyDeleteI type this with tears in my eyes, I know this feeling of waiting for the phone to ring all to well, Diane
Very dear, Rosaria.
ReplyDelete