It’s Wednesday December 2015 and I’m waiting for a call. The call. The one you never want to receive but know is coming.

There have been a lot of calls in the past few weeks, more than is usual. Text and Email, though both perfectly valid forms of communication, just aren’t enough, not for these kinds of words.

My phone ringing makes me jump.

Then instantly nauseous.

Every time I consider not picking up. A childish delaying tactic I know, but, a delay, no matter how short gives me chance to bargain. With god. With the universe. With tears.

Though I’m grateful that I can receive these calls, easily, quickly, without fuss or flourish. I don’t do a lot of talking in these calls. I take in what I’m told. Ask about people and try to offer practical suggestions.

Helping, not helping, I’m just a voice, hopefully some limited comfort.

The wait between calls is long. I’m distracted from my necessary distractions, is that my phone?