Pulled by love

When things go wrong, I still think of her.

I want to call her and tell her.

I want her reassurance, and advice.

She’s sometimes the first person I want to hear on the other end of the phone.

Please answer.

Please answer.

And she’s also the last person I want to feel my pain.

Don’t make her worry.

Don’t make her worry.

But I call her anyway.

Because I know she will want to help.

And I know she will worry anyway.

The worry never stops.

But neither does the pull.

I still gravitate to her.

Even though we are apart.

Even though all these years have passed.

Even though I’m an adult and I have my own children, and husband, and life to worry about.

“I want to call mum”.

These are the words that came after some bad news.

And they made me realise.

I still need her.

I will probably always still need her.

Sometimes, somewhere, somehow.

And I love that.

Because it means that maybe, just maybe, my children will always need me too.