progress???!!!

The phone rings. S goes to answer. It's my mother. My mother who almost always waits for me to call her 'cause I have free long distance and she doesn't. It's never a good thing if my mother calls me. Hell, I call her on my birthday these days. Usually when she calls it's either to lay a guilt trip on me for waiting too long to call her (this is becoming less common these days, as email is cheaper) or to relate bad news - usually someone dying. So. The phone rings. S goes to answer. It's my mother.

She chats politely with Momma for a moment then passes the phone on to me:

Me: [with trepidation] Momma? What's going on?
Her: I just wanted to let you know your daddy's eye surgery has been scheduled for next week.

What a relief. Daddy has glaucoma and is having surgery. He's looking forward to improving his vision. I'm happy for him, and not particularly anxious that anything will go wrong.

After a brief chat (her dime, remember - and I was too selfish to trot out my "why don't you let me call you back?" line), we hung up.

Me: Daddy's glaucoma surgery has been scheduled for next week.
S: Oh? Can he take time off work?

For just one moment, that stung like hell. Then I let it go and we laughed. Why is it I used to grab those moments of pain and hold on to them like a lifeline?

I don't know if it's the meds or the therapy or the healthy relationship... and I don't care.


note to selph's friends: I want points for utilizing the strikethrough code in the title while smashed.