Missing.

Sometimes I think my mom just misses me. Sometimes I think she just wants to reminisce the times I’d treat her out to Burgoo, or DQ, or Kenny’s. How I miss the times we would just hang out, talk about other people’s lives, wondering about our own and together positively hoping for the future.
The set-up right now is kinda difficulty for those anymore. Not an impossibility, but sure takes time. With the wife and the baby, her job and everything else, maybe I can only set one day for mum time, max. I miss it too of course, but there are just bigger responsibilities for me now.
My heart kind of melted away when, from the grocers, my mom enthusiastically grabbed me from my back and told me could have ice cream in the nearby mini-stop. That was when she visited us and surprisingly bought her apo her first clothes closet (talk about spoiling my daughter). Or before that when she pointed Mr. Donut and asked if we could buy a dozen. She sure doesn’t like it, of course (she’s the Go Nuts Donuts! type and finds Mr. Donut donuts cheap) but that would mean more time for the both of us to talk and just stare at each other for more minutes before we go home. She has that hobby, looking at me without saying anything for minutes, even hours. I’ve long accepted the fact that maybe when she does that, I think she just awes at how I got everything from my father – looks-wise. Or maybe she just misses my father, and that she sees him in me. I don’t know exactly.
I think I’m writing this ‘coz maybe I miss her a lot too. And that I would want to spend more time with her.I miss my mom. There I said it. I am an only son, so I think that’s pretty natural.
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