My mom just came into my office, crying. She was looking for me. She heard a page for the ambulance at my address, and the dispatcher’s voice saying “Ambulance respond to (my address) for a 24 year old, unknown injuries”. It wasn’t for me, but it scared her a lot.

We talked. For the first time in three years, we actually talked about things. I shared with her things I’d written about family and time together and how important things are to me. We ended up laughing a bit and crying a lot over how we wanted the same things, and neither of us knew how to address the gulf between us, the things we don’t understand about each other, and the things we don’t want to admit that we do understand because they’re all too familiar.

I think it scared her to hug me and find a bra strap. And to find more between us than just chest. Her daughter’s growing up again and she missed parts.

I’m in a bit of a shell-shocked state right now. The sun’s setting, and I don’t know what time it is, at least not by feel. All at once I’m hungry and not and upset and not and relaxed like it’s a huge weight off my chest, and tense about the future.