The Worst Phone Call

As a 21-year-old freshly graduated from college, living 15 hours away from my home town, I've had to deal with some of the harsher realities and decisions of life. Some of them seem trivial, like trying to figure out where to buy groceries, or which restaurant is better. Some are harder yet, like which clinic should I go to when I'm sick, or what part of town is safe enough to live in. It's tough to realize that your landlord doesn't care about you, but your paycheck. It's hard to deal with when your neighbor gets their car window busted out. And it's a struggle learning when to stand up for yourself and when to just let it go.

But the hardest part of my adult life were two phone calls...

The first one I received on September 2nd, from my sister. She was crying. 

"Have you heard about Grandma?" she asked.

I experienced that flutter of hope and fear that only comes from the unknown when talking about your Grandma struggling with cancer.

"No," I said.

My sister told me that she had passed away.

I hope you never know what that feels like, but life experience tells me you probably will.

The second hardest phone call of my adult life is the one I can't make.

When I'm driving home from work...

When something funny happens with my family...

When I want to know what the plans are for Thanksgiving...

I pick up my phone, and for a blissful second I forget that I can't make the call. Then I am crashing down at the realization that I can't call... and that I'll never be able to again. I'm crying at the knowledge that no matter who I call that it won't be the same. That who I call might be too preoccupied with their own lives to talk the way that we used to.

I wonder when this feeling will end and when I won't look at my phone and think of calling her. And then I wonder should ever want to forget, because surely forgetting is worse than the pain. 

If I knew then, what I know now, I would have picked up the phone more, so maybe these almost-calls wouldn't feel like lost opportunities.