Daughter Mine

I don’t miss her.

I don’t miss her calling (shrieking, really) from five rooms away.

“Mom, can you come pin my dress-

Find my sweater

Clean up dog poop

Answer this question?”

(You chose the demand.)

I don’t miss this at all.

But, it’s so quiet here

I can hear myself breathe

And the tap, tap, tap

On the keyboard

Writing about the daughter I’m not missing.

I listen for the ping of the text

Or the ring of the phone

I know she will call eventually.

When she needs money

Or something else important.

She won’t be able to yell from five rooms over though

And I won’t hear her from 625 miles away

This is a blessing, I know.

My husband thinks we should

Tie her funds to her ability to communicate

With us.

One dollar a picture.

A quarter a word.

I know that won’t be necessary

She’ll call because she loves us.

Tomorrow.