Not long after my wife and I moved into our new apartment, we figured out that we would need to make a copy of our keys to lend out to people who visited us. Annie was out of town one weekend, and I decided to walk to the closest locksmith. Knowing that I would be walking for a little while, I decided to take the opportunity to give my parents a call. My mom picked up after a few rings, and we chatted during my walk.
Our habit at that time was to spend about five minutes talking about what we had done during the day. For me, it was almost always that I had worked a long day. Mom had usually done some housework and perhaps had a hair or doctor appointment. After some words of encouragement between each other, Mom would hand the phone to my dad.
Today though, Dad was out running errands. At the point our conversation would normally be running out of steam, Mom keep breathing it full of new life. I had arrived at the locksmith, but I sensed that I needed to stay on the phone. For some reason, Mom didn't want to hang up, and I was going to stay on as long as she wanted. I wandered in and out of a row of bikes as we talked. The call stretched past an hour. Finally the conversation wound itself down. We hung up, both of us acting as if this had been like any other call.
I don't know why our conversations normally lasted 5 minutes and why this one lasted over an hour. I don't remember anything that we talked about. But I always think back to that day when I walk past the locksmith. The day had felt different. Now, with Mom gone, I'm just happy that we were able to spend that time afternoon on the phone.