When I was off work these last two years I often had lunch with my dad. For a while he took flying lessons at a small airport near us and afterwards he'd come over for lunch and tell us about that day's adventure. After he stopped taking lessons we just make plans for whatever day worked best and DH and I would take him to one of our favorite local haunts.
Now that I'm working again I was afraid both he and I would miss those lunches. But, where I'm at is pretty close to where he lives, so, what the heck, let's have a lunch date! I found a place he'd never been to, nothing fancy, but good food cheap. My kind of place. And we talked. And talked and talked some more until it was time to get back to the office. We talk about almost anything - politics, sports, good sportsmen like Bob Feller, and immature, selfish ones like an ex-northeast Ohio basketball star. We talked about health insurance and cooking and family.
And on the drive back to work I thought how proud mom would have been of him. It breaks his heart that she's not here, but he hasn't used that as excuse to feel sorry for himself or become a recluse. He's learned to cook and clean and do laundry. He's a great cookie baker, making a dozen different kinds for Christmas. He goes out to lunch with friends and goes to the gym regularly. He even volunteered at the church carnival. She's got to be smiling up there in heaven.
I also thought abough how much I miss her. And what I miss the most - talking to her. Hearing her voice. Her asking if that was a new blouse, or if I lost weight, or if that was a new haircut. Talking about our latest sewing projects. Girl stuff. Things mom and daughters talk about. It's what I miss the most.