Griefaries: Nine
This morning, as I rolled out of bed, I intentionally hit the right hand on my Build-A-Bear. I genuinely wanted to hear my mom's voice, for reasons that I can't even explain, but sometimes explanations offer no real solace anyway. The entire message played straight through - a silly voicemail about tiny gnats surrounding my car. Mom found this incredibly peculiar I guess, because she thought it warranted a phone call. Lord only knows where I was or what I was doing that day that left me not answering, ultimately sending her to voicemail. Sometimes it is difficult for me to accept that I have any voicemails from her at all, because that just implies that I was too busy to speak to her. My own mother! I could laugh at loud with how ridiculous a sentence that is. Now truly, some people are genuinely busy and unable to answer phone calls, but still. However, I'm also glad that I have something concrete to hang onto. If I had picked up that day, who's to say I'd