She used to be a phone call away.

Very few days go by when I don't think I should call my mom, when I don't get an empty feeling in my stomach remembering that she is not here, that I don't feel afraid of dying.  My dad is here, I love him, but he is not my mom.  Sometimes at dinner we can get him to talk about the old days, but not often, not much and not too personal.  My kids call me to check up on me, to vent, to complain to pass the time, but who do I call?  Weird.  My mom was only 18 years older than me.  I have friends who are older than she was.  Makes me mad that she is gone so soon.  Makes me mad.