The Switch has been Flipped

After we first moved to WA state from Ohio, I talked to my Mom at least three {and sometimes more} times a week.

It has lessened gradually over the years.

From three plus times a week to two times a week.

From two times a week to once a week.

From once a week to once every two weeks.

And finally to where we are now. . .  Once a month.

The last time I talked to Mom was right before the fourth of July.

She had called while I was out, so I called her back when I got home.  I was nervous to pick up the phone.  It had been a while since I had talked to her and I figured she would be angry with me because it had been such a long time.

But I sucked it up and dialed her number.  Held my breath as I listened to the phone ring.

And when she answered?  I said, "Hi Mommy."

She was not angry like I thought she would be.  Which was weird because we had argued over this exact same issue a couple of years ago.

She told me how her dog had puppies (a month before).  And how my sister was helping her out a whole lot with the puppies and various other things.

And then it clicks.

That's why she wasn't angry.  My sister has taken the place of favorite.

So I spend the whole conversation hearing about how "my sister did this" and "my sister did that" and "my sister will be doing this, that and the other thing" and blah, blah, blah.

And I start to get angry.

But it's not really anger.

No.  It's worse.

It's jealously.

My sister and I have traded places.  I was the one that Mom counted on.  I was the one that was always there for her.  I was the one that she could talk to.

And now I'm not.

My sister is there for her.  My sister does things for her.  My sister is the one that she confides in.

Now I understand how my sister must have felt when Mom and I did everything together.

And it sucks.

*****

Linking up with Pour Your Heart Out hosted by Shell at Things I Can't Say

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