Eight years ago my only child, moved from the midwest to California. That is 1200 miles away from “home”. My heart ached as I watched his car drive away. The only stipulation on this move was, “You have to call me every week.” If I hear his voice I will know (or pretend) that all is well.
In the beginning, I got the call early Sunday morning. After completing the opening work at Subway, he would have a few minutes to call for our weekly chat. Then I was able to move on with the rest of my day. Eventually he left Subway, that was the beginning of my Sunday waiting game. His life became more complicated and there was less time in his schedule to call mom. Thankfully, the calls continued through the college years and even after he married.
Nowadays the call usually comes in late afternoon. Sometimes it’s a text. The mode of communication may have changed, but one thing will never change. This mom still needs to hear from her son. Whenever that happens, all is right in my world.